( Her heart floods up, with a little gasp, even as it sinks the next moment. Because this is why, that's why she's been studying so hard for the last few weeks. Because she won't be here for a handful of weeks, she'll even have to post-date her part of the rent for after her paycheck, since it'll roll over in her account while she's up there, too.
It's a tragic sort of feeling starting at those words—that offer. Like something more, something real, than this was finally offered up, but only after the world had already taken the when and where from her. She can't change those plans. She needs this work. Needs to keep trying to do her best, hoping that someone will see it, appreciate it, do something about it.
Because as much as she doesn't mind rumoring herself into positions, she wants, even deeper, to have someone notice her without it. Wants the validity that she belongs here, for any small part, just because of herself. It just feels gutting to realize any chance of seeing Luther is the price, too. There are things she thinks about asking, but she doesn't want to know, also—everything she can't have.
To come home and want to go stand in the places he was, even for a moment, while she wasn't there. She knows she would. Part of her wants to. Like somehow, that doesn't make her weak and stupider still. Nothing like over all of this and grasping for things that can't be hers, that even the universe is putting itself in-between happening again. Allison can't bring herself to joke. It feels like all the laughter was stolen right out of this. Like the light from it was stolen back from her. )
Dear Luther,
Sorry, but you can't make me anymore, Number One. I can laugh at whatever I want to laugh at. I don't even need a recording of it to be sure that I've pictured it right. I know yo
Sadly, this letter seems to full of apologies, but this one is real, at least. I wish I could be here to meet you, but I'm going to be out of town from one, possibly two weeks straight at the end of the month. We're being flown back up to start the second half of the season shooting. I wish I could. Really. Sorry.
I may not even be able to write for a while in there, too, depending on how busy they keep us. But I could get together a list of places you should consider visiting, more than whatever I mentioned however many of these back that I'd seen if you want suggestions on what to do with that hour instead?
no subject
It's a tragic sort of feeling starting at those words—that offer. Like something more, something real, than this was finally offered up, but only after the world had already taken the when and where from her. She can't change those plans. She needs this work. Needs to keep trying to do her best, hoping that someone will see it, appreciate it, do something about it.
Because as much as she doesn't mind rumoring herself into positions, she wants, even deeper, to have someone notice her without it. Wants the validity that she belongs here, for any small part, just because of herself. It just feels gutting to realize any chance of seeing Luther is the price, too. There are things she thinks about asking, but she doesn't want to know, also—everything she can't have.
To come home and want to go stand in the places he was, even for a moment, while she wasn't there. She knows she would. Part of her wants to. Like somehow, that doesn't make her weak and stupider still. Nothing like over all of this and grasping for things that can't be hers, that even the universe is putting itself in-between happening again. Allison can't bring herself to joke. It feels like all the laughter was stolen right out of this. Like the light from it was stolen back from her. )
Sorry, but you can't make me anymore, Number One. I can laugh at whatever I want to laugh at. I don't even need a recording of it to be sure that I've pictured it right.
I know yoSadly, this letter seems to full of apologies, but this one is real, at least. I wish I could be here to meet you, but I'm going to be out of town from one, possibly two weeks straight at the end of the month. We're being flown back up to start the second half of the season shooting. I wish I could. Really. Sorry.
I may not even be able to write for a while in there, too, depending on how busy they keep us. But I could get together a list of places you should consider visiting, more than whatever I mentioned however many of these back that I'd seen if you want suggestions on what to do with that hour instead?
Still not
youra Diseny Princess,Allison