(
butterfly-web.livejournal.com posting in
monaboyd May. 19th, 2006 05:02 pm)
Two drabbles written to chastise, as well as console, myself regarding my problems with jealously.
He tries. He really does.
Jealousy is an awful shade of green, and he imagines it clashes something horrible. So he tries. Ignores the flare of anger at cancelled plans. At rescheduled flights. At increasingly brief conversation. After all, Billy’s busy. And that’s okay.
So when he hangs up the phone, and is confronted with suffocating silence, he tries not to hold it against the Scot. Reminds himself that Billy is allowed to have other friends, other places to be. Scolds himself for his childish attitude. After all, it isn’t like he’s not busy, too. It’s not like there aren’t dozens of people who’d love to spend time with him. It’s not like he couldn’t be out, having fun with someone else, right now.
Dom sighs, and stares at the ice in his glass.
*
Billy has never been a big fan of self-pity.
He learned a long time ago that bad things happen in life; yes, to good people. Yes, when you don’t expect it. And so he’s done his best, when faced with hard knocks, to suck it up and push through, ‘cause what else can you do, really?
So when he hears word of Dom, hears about the outrageous parties and the beautiful women, his tendency to wallow surprises him. The wretched feeling that comes with knowing his presence is replaced, easily compensated for…it’s one he’s unused to, and is unprepared to deal with.
And when he begins to cut the phone calls short, to avoid hearing Dominic’s happy chatter, to shut off “what Evie said” or “what Matt did”, he’s disappointed in himself. Knows it’s gone too far, that he’s being ridiculous.
Billy ends the call on his cell, ears haunted by a cheerful voice.
But what can he do, really?
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These are really nice.
<3