you JUST said you don't know what the problem is but now i'm supposed to believe you're sorry for what you did even though you don't know what it was? whatever
besides, it's not something you need to be sorry about anyway
i'm talking to you right now. i talk to you like every day
[ and look, technically this is true, she probably says shit like "hey" and "bella bought groceries just so you know" and "i'm going to bed, see ya" and all the other things you say to someone you live in the same house with. she just doesn't talk to abby anymore.
but she's going to cling to that little technicality so fucking hard, abby. so fucking hard. ]
(it*, is what she meant, but she's suddenly so, incredibly angry at clarisse and she hates that she feels that way. she's so angry, and upset, and confused, and these feelings have never been ascribed to clarisse before. it really hurts to acknowledge that, and suddenly her blood feels like it's boiling inside of her, making her skin prickle all over.)
[ well, at least abby saying "fuck you" gets clarisse to react. the numb, cold anger she's been holding onto all month turns to something that's hot and ugly. fuck her? fuck her? abby's got some fucking nerve. to demand answers from her like this, to not even have the balls to ask her to her face, and then to get pissed off when clarisse doesn't want to talk about it? like keeping things from people is something abby's never done. hah. ]
yeah, i DON'T want to tell you when you're clearly fucked up on something and instead of manning up and walking like 50 feet to my room you decided to text me. why would i ever want to talk to you about this over text? you know i can barely read english on a good day so why would i have THIS conversation with you this way
(part of that paragraph makes it through the wild haze of unfairness clouding abby's judgement, gets in underneath of her skin like a stinger. clarisse's dyslexia– she didn't think– she can't think. everything is off kilter in her brain and she can't hold onto any one thought for long enough to understand it. what is she fucked up on? that thought should be more frightening to abby but it slips out of her grasp like a wet stone, and instead she seizes on the last thing clarisse says to her, digs her fingers in, and holds on tight.)
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laruetheday) wrote2021-09-04 06:23 pm
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but now i'm supposed to believe you're sorry for what you did even though you don't know what it was? whatever
besides, it's not something you need to be sorry about anyway
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Why wont you talk to me
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[ and look, technically this is true, she probably says shit like "hey" and "bella bought groceries just so you know" and "i'm going to bed, see ya" and all the other things you say to someone you live in the same house with. she just doesn't talk to abby anymore.
but she's going to cling to that little technicality so fucking hard, abby. so fucking hard. ]
stop being so sensitive
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(it*, is what she meant, but she's suddenly so, incredibly angry at clarisse and she hates that she feels that way. she's so angry, and upset, and confused, and these feelings have never been ascribed to clarisse before. it really hurts to acknowledge that, and suddenly her blood feels like it's boiling inside of her, making her skin prickle all over.)
but you don't want to tell em?fine
Fuck you.
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yeah, i DON'T want to tell you when you're clearly fucked up on something and instead of manning up and walking like 50 feet to my room you decided to text me. why would i ever want to talk to you about this over text? you know i can barely read english on a good day so why would i have THIS conversation with you this way
it doesn't fucking matter anyway, abby
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It matters to me!
You matter to me. Please. I cant fuck this up
(she wanted to be better than this.)
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