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catefrances

she sat at her desk and stared at the mug that contained her pens. it was a starsign mug and it's handle was broken off. she was an aquarian and she'd just read today in one of those trashy vacuous woman's magazines that aquarians were loners. she laughed cause she knew she totally was. she couldn't stand to be around people. she allowed a few into her inner sanctum but they were few and far between. she had just polished off a bottle of cheap italian red wine and was feeling slightly toasted and a little bit horny. she was listening to the drones and remembered the last time she had seen them play live. it was at the gaelic club in the city and they were fine. she was drunk that night as well, the drones played good muisc and it was drinking music. if there was one band she would recommend to everyone,it would be the drones. i mean she knew they were not everyone's cup of tea but you had to give them a go at least. there was so much shit proffered as music that when people heard great mnusic they couldn't even recognise it. but she could. maybe she was a music snob, she didn't care. all she knew was what she liked and what got her going. the drones got her going. they were playing in town next month at her favourite venue, so she was amped, knowing that the gig was already noted in her diary.

catefrances

the luxury of the weekend was not having get out of bed. she lay there listening to all the noise in the house and ignored it all. she thought of him and it brought a smile to her face. she rolled over and tried to hide under the blankets. she knew there were things that had to be done. she also knew she could delay them, for as long as she wanted. in fact when it came down to it she could choose not to do them at all. opening her eyes again, she noticed the empty bottle sitting on the chair next to her bed. shit! she threw the blanket off her and climbed out of bed. she grabbed the bottle and the glass that she left on the floor and took both into the kitchen. there she found another bottle. it was empty like the one in her hand. she wondered what it was she was trying to run from last night. the sink was piled with dishes that needed washing. she put the bottle and glass on the bench and turned the kettle on. she found a teabag in the cupboard and dropped it into a mug. while she waited for the water to boil she closed her eyes picturing him inside her head. it was a pleasant sight. she just hoped her semi good mood would last the day.

Brainofdz

It was one of those Sturday's where it was unclear when sleep ended and living began.
As I lie in bed I could feel the coffee and see my lover's voice
I new if I could get up fast enough, things would be just as I recalled
just right

olderman

bump. can we read some more?

catefrances

olderman wrote:

bump. can we read some more?

i'll see what i can do for you j.

catefrances

the bitch about using your own experiences in your writing was that sometimes your real life takes you places you don't want to go. and you knew that somehow it'd find it way into your writing. she sat staring into space debating with herself whether or not to put her emotions on paper. it was a debate she'd had before and one she knew would end up with her drinking at least one and a half bottles of cheap red wine and pouring her heart out into her notebook. she thought back a week and a half. it was the last time she'd remotely been in what could be descibed as a good mood. she remembers leaning against the kitchen sink waiting for the kettle to boil, her eyes closed, thinking of him. they didn't see nearly enough of each other and she was hoping that would change. she felt that it would if she gave him space. the next day it was he that gave himself the space. she knew something was wrong even before he said anything. he was hesitant in his actions and she didn't have the patience to wait for any explanation he'd have that would be used to try and placate her. when she told him to just tell her, he obliged. she didn't like what he had to say. and she couldn't stay to hear the whole story as if it'd somehow change the ending. he told her his life was a mess and he needed to get it back together. what that meant of course was that he'd decided to stay with his family and that she could no longer a part of his life. he'd made his decision and she'd lost him. now, she sat with her hand rubbing the kink out of her neck. she sighed and pushing the chair away from her desk, stood and made her way to the kitchen. this was going to be a two bottle night, she was sure of it.

catefrances

a week later she was still drinking. she felt like shit, but she knew she could feel worse. there was always room for improvement. her mother had taught her that. on the fourth day, she'd drunk the cabin dry and so had gone into town to stock up. while she was there she picked up some guy at the tavern. he said he knew her writing. and being flattered by the attention and angry enough not to care, she took him home with her. at that moment he lay in her bed naked as the day he was born. for the last three days all they'd done was drink and fuck and eat cheese and crackers and salad. he had found some canned fish in the pantry, but the smell made her nauseous so only he ate that. she wondered how long he'd stay. she wondered how long she'd allow him to stay. she knew all he ws was a boost to her ego. someone to fill the void until she could be bothered making an effort to start her life again. she didn't know how long that would be. and she didn't really care. as long as he left when she told him to. in her quietest moments she'd listen to nick drake. one time too many. he took the disc out of the stereo and told her he couldn't listen to anymore morose englishmen. especially one who topped himself. he put led zeppelin in the player and tried his darndest to make her forget....

catefrances

so here she finds herself again. it's late and she is drinking her wine. and writing. he needs his sleep and she allows him that. she waits for him to wake. she listen to ryan adams and sings along. she drinks and writes. it's all she knows. sometimes she watches him when he sleeps. his angel face belies his troubled soul. she listens to him as he tells her stories. she understands cause she has been there herself. she loves when she rests her hand on his cheek and he turns his head in order to kiss her palm. he pushes her and she likes that. they are similiar in many ways and in others not so. she suspects he needs her as much as she needs him. when she rolls over during a fitfull sleep, she revels in the fact that she can reach out and touch his skin. it gives her comfort. his mere presence gives her comfort. oftentimes she looks up to find him watching her. she just smiles and goes back to whatever activity she was doing. he instinctly knows when to leave her be and for that she is most grateful.

olderman

bump. this latest entry implies contentment. more please.

catefrances

olderman wrote:

bump. this latest entry implies contentment. more please.

with age comes sagacity. good call j.

catefrances

she lost a book. well not so much lost as misplaced. she knew it was here somewhere, she just couldn't find it. when she told him, he rolled his eyes and said she was one of 'those' people. he on the other hand, was someone who had a place for everything and everything was in that place. she countered that she lived alone, so if she put something somewhere then she expected it to be there when she went to retrieve it. he walked away shaking his head. anyway four days later she found it. it had slipped off the arm of the sofa and down beside a table. so now she had her book. it was a slim volume of poetry by patti smith. she'd been a fan of patti's since her 14th birthday when she recieved the album 'horses' and a copy of the communist manifesto from her father. she still has both. when she showed him the book, he took it and read to her. she beside him, her head resting in his lap. as he read, he absently stroked her brow. and she felt there was no other place she'd rather be than with him.

catefrances

she sat in an old armchair out in the open. the breeze rustled the leaves of the aspen tree she rested under. small waves appeared on the surface of the lake. writing without pause in her notebook, the manic phase that had overcome her upon awakening that morning continued. she heard the fallen twigs and leaf matter crunch under someone's foot. her eyes darted in the direction of the disturbance long enough only to assertain the identity of the footsteps. she allowed herself a smile, but all the while never stopping her writing. he approached her and laid a kiss upon her brow. then he left her and retreated to the cabin. he knew better than to disturb her creative periods. it wasn't even something he had learnt through admonishment. it seemed instinctual on his part. however he came about this aspect of his personality, she was grateful for it. she breathed deeply at the thought of his presence. she closed her eyes and tilted her head back to feel the fresh air caress her cheeks. after a short while, the spell was broken. knowing he was moving about the cabin going about his business attracted her attention. she loved to watch him move. she loved the way he knitted his brow in concentration. how he sometimes bit his thumb when his patience was tested by the inept schoolwork he was marking. she loved the sound of his laugh when it filled the silence. she loved how he stretched his body as far as it would go while she fought every desire within her own not to reach out and draw her fingers across his bare skin. she turned towards the cabin and saw his form cross behind one of the windows. she closed her notebook and picking up her empty mug now the domain of ants looking for a feed, she started towards the warmth of her cabin. and him.

catefrances

she didn't notice at first. he drank. she drank. then for whatever reason she got bored with it. but he didn't. her dependable guy got less dependable. what the hell did she expect? she met him in bar for fuck's sake. well she didnt expect the recriminations and the glowering whenever she was in his vicinity. she didn't expect the inquisition into her past. she didn't expect him to accuse her of things that were nonexistent. she tried to deal but nothing placated him. he continued to drink and she continued to ignore his behaviour. one day he struck her. he was completely indignant for his actions. she let it slide. and he stopped drinking. but she waited for him to fall. she couldn't help it. one day she came home and he was there. he should have been at school. when she asked why, he dismissed her. she let him be. she went for a walk and when she came back he was drinking. she chose to ignore it....again. he continued to drink. he sat in his armchair and stared into space and drank himself into a stupor. when he'd had enough he came looking for her. he forced himself upon her and she allowed him to do it. in the morning she was gone.

catefrances

how could she have been so foolish. to think he would be any different from the other men she had known. she sat at the bar running her fingers absently through her hair as she drained her glass. she asked for a refill and was given it. she wondered if perhaps she deliberately drew these men to her. did she have some unfulfilled need to be abused. was it only men she knew had the capacity to do her harm that she sought out. she thought he was different. she thought she could be different. she was wrong. she could only ever be herself. the self abuser. the drinker. the stupid girl who turned into the stupid woman who again and again sought validation from the men she bedded. truth be told, it was the sex and the longing to be with a man that over rode her warning system. she needed to fill that most base of human instincts. and she did. she did it with no boundaries, no inhibitions. and with any man who was bold enough to take her on. but this one. this one got to her. he really threw her for a loop. now she understood his instinct to give her her space. he needed his. he needed the time to get himself together. now she understood his attentiveness to her needs. the reciprocation he was so eager to lay before her. he was just like her. a user and an abuser. strangely though for the eight days she had been away fom him she did not feel relief. she felt loss. a grave loss. she wondered...

catefrances

she craves him. she doesn't want to run away like she always does. does she think he can change? does it matter if he doesn't? she sips her drink. keeps an eye on the door. she watches everyone but notices nothing. except that he is not here. she can't help but wonder where he is or what he is doing. why does it matter to her so much? he fed her body and he fed her mind. that's why. he drank. so what? she drank too. every base instinct she had, he matched. it was as if they were two halves of the same person. whatever it was he was drowning in, she was too. but he accused her of things that never even entered her mind. she didn't doubt there were things about himself he hadn't told her. and she knew that eventually he would. she was in no rush, cause she thought she had plenty of time. turns out she had no time at all.

catefrances

her brother found her. she could barely open her eyes. the light hurt her head so much she thought it would spin right off and land at her feet. she poured her heart out as he held her. he bathed her. fed her. took her walking through the woods while he listened. on the fifth day he asked her what was she going to do with her life now. she told him the same thing she'd always done. he questioned the soundness of that. she told him it was all she knew. yes, he said, that's what their father used to say. she told him she was doing the best she could. he called her a liar. said she had a gift and being drunk all the time, living out in the woods, fucking any guy that showed an interest in her wasn't a way to live. she got angry and told him to leave. he told her she can't get rid of family just cause she felt like being alone. she countered that until he showed up that's exactly what she had done. she exasperated him. finally he gave up and left her to the mercy of herself.

catefrances

it was not a relief to be alone. she wanted someone with her. not just anyone of course. but right now, anyone would do. she looked around the cabin as it closed in on her. she needed to get out. she grabbed her coat and walked out into the morning. she sun was burning off the last of the fog and the woods were quiet. she could hear the faint whine of an outboard motor in the distance. she felt the ground beneath her bare feet and made for the dock. she sat on the edge, her feet dangling just above the water. a fish broke the surface somewhere near. though she didn't see it, she saw the disturbance in the surface of the lake and heard the sound the water made. she used to think about being a fish. being able to swim all day. being able to submerge your whole being in the water and be privy to a world no human fully understood. she was not a morning person, but sometimes, like this morning, it was worth her while to rise early. the sun burnt white through the haze as she laid down; her back against the wooden planks. she could feel the soft breeze brush her legs. and it felt good. she closed her eyes and drifted off.

catefrances

she managed to finish what she was working on. she'd even managed to deliver it to her editor, in person. he told her she looked like shit. she took no offense cause she knew it was the truth. she was in the city only long enough to hand in her book. she had come to cherish her space. and the city had none. pulling into the lane she saw a light on in her cabin. she thought her brother had returned. she hoped not. she was wrong. when he said her name, her breath caught in her throat. he couldn't be here she said. he told her he'd been sober for nearly five months. he said he loved her. that if she wanted him, he wanted to stay. she couldn't stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. she wasn't sure she could. and she told him so. he said he understood. yes he did. he understood her all too well. as he stood in front of her asking forgiveness he reached out and rested his hand on her hip. he told her she needed to eat something. she could feel the heat in his touch. he asked her to allow him to be there for her. she told him he could sleep on the couch. he smiled. it was enough for now.

matt776x2

hard to read cat split your thoughts

I'll be back when more sober as not to conflict the line i just read with the one I am trying to read now.

catefrances

matt776x2 wrote:

hard to read cat split your thoughts

I'll be back when more sober as not to conflict the line i just read with the one I am trying to read now.

each post is one thought. my style remains.

korby

catefrances wrote:

she craves him. she doesn't want to run away like she always does. does she think he can change? does it matter if he doesn't? she sips her drink. keeps an eye on the door. she watches everyone but notices nothing. except that he is not here. she can't help but wonder where he is or what he is doing. why does it matter to her so much? he fed her body and he fed her mind. that's why. he drank. so what? she drank too. every base instinct she had, he matched. it was as if they were two halves of the same person. whatever it was he was drowning in, she was too. but he accused her of things that never even entered her mind. she didn't doubt there were things about himself he hadn't told her. and she knew that eventually he would. she was in no rush, cause she thought she had plenty of time. turns out she had no time at all.

i am sad. that makes me sad. was it truth ?

catefrances

korby wrote:

i am sad. that makes me sad. was it truth ?

based on.

catefrances

he was back at teaching so she was alone during the days. she had rewrites to do, so at least she was occupied. but it wasn't enough. he suggested that maybe she could come and talk to his students about the process of writing and being published. she said she couldn't imagine what she could have to tell them. he hated when she shied away like this. and she hated when he ignored her misanthropic nature. and so they fought. he said she was selfish and she charged him with the same offense. she said she wasn't his little pet to parade in front of people. he said that was not what he was doing. he wanted her to get out of the cabin. he said he thought she needed to be around people. she challenged him, asking which part of the word misanthropic he didn't understand. he called her a bitch. she asked him to leave. he declined. so she left. he gave her a start allowing her to calm down before he followed. he knew where to find her.

catefrances

she heard him approach. with her arms folded across her chest she ignored him. she stared out at the lake. with no moon to light it, it was as black as ink. as he spoke she closed her eyes to take him all in. he told her she couldn't make him leave by displaying her anger. he knew she was afraid of what she felt for him. that she couldn't control her emotions. and that's what made her run sometimes. she congratulated him on being so observant. he sighed. his hands on her arms sent a shiver through her body. she leant back into him. she apologised for her moods. again. he told her that everything she felt and everything she said was her. she didn't have to change it for him. and
he didn't expect her to. she wanted to warn him what was coming, but she didnt want to scare him away. despite his words to her, she knew that like the others he would want to run. she also knew it wasn't fair of her to compare him to the others. he had shown her weakness. but he had also shown her strength. and it was that strength she hoped wouldn't desert him when he needed it the most. when she needed him the most.

olderman

this writing is emotionally vivid. even without a physical description, i can yet see these people and i can feel the emotions and tensions of the argument. i can also feel the moment of surrender even if just for a moment. keep writing cate.

catefrances

thanks j.

catefrances

through the winter their life together became more settled. she had stopped drinking. it was difficult for her but she did it. he told her to take it one day at a time. when she admonished him for sounding like an AA counsellor, he swore to himself he'd not do it again. she found other ways to cope and he wasn't always thrilled with them. but he allowed her to find her own way. he loved her. he was sure of that. it made him smile when she wondered at the winter landscape. the bare trees and the way the water of the lake turned grey. some mornings he'd find her wrapped in a blanket sitting on the dock. her breath visible when she exhaled. she'd spread her arms and welcome him into her embrace. she'd encircled his body with her arms and rested her cheek against his back. he could feel her breathe as her chest rose and fell. he wanted this idyll to stay forever but he knew it was only a matter of time before she fell. he resolved to be there and not to run. he kept these thoughts to himself whilst hoping he'd never have to test his will.

catefrances

he woke to the sound of raining on the roof. torrential rain on a tin roof. she was not in bed beside him. he threw the covers back lazily and tramped downstairs. the cabin was deathly quiet. but outside it thundered. he called her name. she didn't answer. he stopped to listen. there was no sign of movement. walking through the downstairs rooms, he noted everything was in its place. the kettle sat on the burner. he touched his hand to it. it was tepid. well at least she had been in the kitchen fairly recently. taking the kettle he filled it with more water and returned it to the burner. leaning against the bench he stared through the cabin out towards the lake. he saw her. she was on the dock. in the pouring rain. he took the kettle off the boil and grabbed a slicker off the peg behind the back door. he approached her cautiously laying the slicker over her shoulders and wrapping his arms around her. she didn't acknowledge him. he spoke to her softly, applying pressure to her shoulders trying to get her to move with him. she didnt resist as he led her back to the cabin. her wet and muddy footprints tracked their progress to the bathroom. he ran a hot bath and stripped her clothing from her body. she hadn't said a word, but he continued to talk to her. she shivered as she stood there naked. he helped her into the water and bathed her, allowing the water to warm her as he poured it over her shoulders. she sat there, her arms around her knees. he decided he wanted to be closer to her. he stripped his clothes off and climbed in behind her, wrapping his arms around her, drawing her to him. he felt her body soften and mould into his. he just held her. it's all he could do. for now it's all he could do.

catefrances

she had visitors. for the first time since he'd known her there was someone else in the cabin. he watched as she shrank away. it was obvious to him she did not like this intrusion. they wanted something from her. they wanted her. she was polite enough, barely tolerating their presence. he came to her and spoke in low tones. the others thought he was undermining her. they were wrong. he asked nothing of her or from her. he wanted just to be with her. there were times when they didnt even talk. days when he could see from her body language that she was unapproachable. he waited for her to come to him. and she always did. on her terms. they wanted her to leave the cabin. she needed to promote her book. she didn't want to. she was in no shape to deal with anyone she didn't know. or even people she did know. they didn't care. they cojoled her into believing this was necessary. he knew they were wrong. she knew they were wrong but still she acquiesced. she wanted them to leave her alone. so she gave them the answer they wanted to hear. all she asked was that he be allowed to be with her. they agreed because they wanted her. even then he could see their minds ticking over, working out ways to keep her busy and away from his influence.

catefrances

everything started out okay. she did what was required of her and they gave her the time she needed for herself. but it wasnt enough time. she hated being pulled in so many direction. he noticed her start to unravel. they didnt. or if they did they chose ignore it. he came back to the room to find her drunk. it had been so many months since her last drink. and he knew this day would come. she looked at him and smiled. he smiled back, but inside he was dying for her. he wanted to let her get it out of her system. to allow her to deal with the pressure she was feeling her own way. unfortunately her own way could end up at the hospital. and apparently although any publicity was good publicity, he didnt want her exposed to that. he took her to bed and resolved to talk with her people, as he called them, in the morning.

catefrances

again the sun rose. but she was gone. she left and he didn't even notice. he didn't wake up. he didn't stir enough to sense her absence. to him it looked as if she only took herself. he couldn't say if she had any money with her cause he didn't know how much she kept on her person. when he told them they got angry at her. then at him. he got angry with them, but only briefly. truth be told, he was angry with her as well. she did this and it never got easier to deal with. he understood the drinking. he even understood the hurting herself. but he could never understand her disappearances. he wanted to believe that he meant enough to her, for her to confide in him. but she didn't. not when she was so far gone she just up and walked away. the longer she was missing the heavier the lump of coal got in his chest. it didn't belong there and it ached. it ached for her. and it ached with her. he sat at the hotel bar for the longest time nursing his glass. deep in thought and wondering if he could ever help her. wondering if it was worth the effort to him. he already knew the answer to that one. it was the one constant in his life these days. he loved her. for better and for worse, he loved her. her disappearances and falls off the wagon and self abuse wouldn't change that. he drained his glass and asked for another seltzer.