Post by Esme Allejandro on May 11, 2008 21:34:40 GMT -5
Yeah, so.
I promised Ellen that if I had an opening in my Writing F&P class, I would write a story based off of Skylar and Esme and their relationship. This is set around 1983, a year after the pair has gotten married.
=D
May 20th, 1978
People are always talking about him, how he’s a monster, a self-made circus freak, the man with two faces. And to be honest, I can’t contradict them (as much as I may want to) because it’s true, in a way. But I love him unconditionally because when he’s Skylar- MY Skylar-he loves me back. I admire him because even though he created that alternate self who would kill me without a thought, he fights it when he’s around me, I mean just that much to him that he can try to slowly heal himself and his internal scars.
And maybe, just maybe, be able to love me with all of himself and not just my half.
Oh, Esme.
I know I shouldn’t be reading all her old journals, but I keep coming back to them when I’m feeling particularly introverted and lonely, or when she’s off in London visiting Dessy and Lisette, like now. Or I assume that’s where she is. When I have the house to myself…me, myself and my ghosts.
She was always more of an artist then a writer, but she kept a journal almost religiously until we got married last year. I once asked her why she stopped- she said that, now, she didn’t need to keep secrets. I was her secret keeper. She has always trusted me too easily. Especially when I don’t deserve it.
October 28th, 1977
Oh my God, I can’t stop crying. It is beyond me to even comprehend what has just happened. I knew he was like this, I knew! And still, I followed him up there, I still antagonized Sky.
Sorry my handwriting is so bad, but I can’t stop shaking either. It was so high, and I almost fell He pushed me- No. Sky pushed me, and it wasn’t Skylar’s fault. I have to keep reminding myself of that, because I promised I would always forgive. But I still can’t stop crying…
That was the first time we kissed, too. Later, when I was back to loving her.
I suppose I should explain the difference between Skylar and Sky. They are both aspects of myself, and Esme calls them by different names to differentiate between the two when she speaks and writes. You see, I have a severe case of multiple personality disorder, or maybe schizophrenia- that was never explained to me. I have two very separate, very different personalities that are almost different people.
It has gone mostly undiagnosed because I hate it when people psychoanalyze me, and I hate shrinks even more. Esme, well. She’s the only person who’s ever understood and tolerated both of me. How could I not fall in love with her?
We had a conversation once, in our old History classroom, where she promised to always forgive me for my trespasses- Sky’s trespasses- no matter what happened. Of course, I was always waiting to do the one thing that would push her over the edge, push her away from me, the one thing she would never be able to forgive. I thought so after I almost pushed her off the roof, that time. I thought so when I broke her ex-boyfriend’s nose at our senior prom. But today is the sixth anniversary of that vow, and a year and a half since we were married and she’s still here.
May 1st, 1981
An so begins another chapter in my life, and like every other major beginning, I’m terrified. Skylar’s asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes- but, oh, it’s so hard not to think I’ve done the wrong thing. He has two selves…what if, a year in, I decide that I can’t deal with it anymore? What if-
But no, I’m being absurd. I have been in love and in close contact with this man for over five bloody years. And it seems as if my trust in him, my love for him, has become a salve, and elixir, because Sky only takes over once every few weeks now-
But what if.
I suppose the question really is, what would I do without him? Would I be able to watch him wal away, not only from me, but from the progress he’s made towards healing the internal scars his father left on his soul? No, of course I can’t. I’ve lived without him once before and there is no way I could do that again.
The ones where she voices her misgivings are the hardest to read, but the most rewarding in the end, the ones that make me the surest of how she feels about me. She mentions being an elixir, a salve, but she has no idea how right she is.
Esme is the only person I’ve ever told, in entirety, about my father and the real reason I am the way I am. Other people knew parts of it, or they had guessed, but I told her everything, ever gory detail, every feeling I’ve ever bottled up. And that release has helped me control my inner demon to an extent I would have never imagined. In that sense, yes, she has been my elixir, but the love she has for me has gone a long way towards controlling Sky also. Because the last thing I want to do is hurt her. Not again.
November 17th, 1979
How are you today? I’m good thanks. Still pretending to be alive. Still missing him so much it’s eating away at my soul like some carnivorous beast. Even Dessy is starting to worry about me, and she is the only one who could possibly know what I’ve been going through. Nothing else to report.
When I came back, she was a shell of herself. She had always been thin, boyish almost, but the first time I saw her she looked like a refugee from a concentration camp. Her cheekbones were like mountains on her face, her joints and every bone in her body was scarily prominent. And her eyes were so empty. Their usual sparkle was gone; they seemed to have retreated back into some inner shell. And when she saw me, she hit the ground. I felt, honestly, in that moment, that I had killed her.
She would tell me later that she thought she had finally lost her mind, and the fear of that is what made her faint when I walked in. I didn’t catch her, but I was the one who woke her up. And she forgave me again, when I least deserved it. We have really never been apart for longer than a week since- and since we moved into the house together (about a month before we got married) we have rarely been apart for longer than a day or so. Today is one of those rare days where Esme is gone, and didn’t tell me where she was going. That’s why I’m up here- I went straight from waking up alone in our bed to these dusty boxes in our attic. I’m not worried about her having left me though- if I go down to our kitchen, there will no doubt be a note waiting for me. She hates making me worried.
Skylar,
I’m in London today, I’m at the doctor’s office.
Good news though- we could be expecting, and I want the doctor to see.
Probably stopping at Dessy’s and at the pastry shop to get some muffins- I noticed we’re out.
Forever Love, and, as always,
Esme
I promised Ellen that if I had an opening in my Writing F&P class, I would write a story based off of Skylar and Esme and their relationship. This is set around 1983, a year after the pair has gotten married.
=D
"Out of Muffins"
May 20th, 1978
People are always talking about him, how he’s a monster, a self-made circus freak, the man with two faces. And to be honest, I can’t contradict them (as much as I may want to) because it’s true, in a way. But I love him unconditionally because when he’s Skylar- MY Skylar-he loves me back. I admire him because even though he created that alternate self who would kill me without a thought, he fights it when he’s around me, I mean just that much to him that he can try to slowly heal himself and his internal scars.
And maybe, just maybe, be able to love me with all of himself and not just my half.
Oh, Esme.
I know I shouldn’t be reading all her old journals, but I keep coming back to them when I’m feeling particularly introverted and lonely, or when she’s off in London visiting Dessy and Lisette, like now. Or I assume that’s where she is. When I have the house to myself…me, myself and my ghosts.
She was always more of an artist then a writer, but she kept a journal almost religiously until we got married last year. I once asked her why she stopped- she said that, now, she didn’t need to keep secrets. I was her secret keeper. She has always trusted me too easily. Especially when I don’t deserve it.
October 28th, 1977
Oh my God, I can’t stop crying. It is beyond me to even comprehend what has just happened. I knew he was like this, I knew! And still, I followed him up there, I still antagonized Sky.
Sorry my handwriting is so bad, but I can’t stop shaking either. It was so high, and I almost fell He pushed me- No. Sky pushed me, and it wasn’t Skylar’s fault. I have to keep reminding myself of that, because I promised I would always forgive. But I still can’t stop crying…
That was the first time we kissed, too. Later, when I was back to loving her.
I suppose I should explain the difference between Skylar and Sky. They are both aspects of myself, and Esme calls them by different names to differentiate between the two when she speaks and writes. You see, I have a severe case of multiple personality disorder, or maybe schizophrenia- that was never explained to me. I have two very separate, very different personalities that are almost different people.
It has gone mostly undiagnosed because I hate it when people psychoanalyze me, and I hate shrinks even more. Esme, well. She’s the only person who’s ever understood and tolerated both of me. How could I not fall in love with her?
We had a conversation once, in our old History classroom, where she promised to always forgive me for my trespasses- Sky’s trespasses- no matter what happened. Of course, I was always waiting to do the one thing that would push her over the edge, push her away from me, the one thing she would never be able to forgive. I thought so after I almost pushed her off the roof, that time. I thought so when I broke her ex-boyfriend’s nose at our senior prom. But today is the sixth anniversary of that vow, and a year and a half since we were married and she’s still here.
May 1st, 1981
An so begins another chapter in my life, and like every other major beginning, I’m terrified. Skylar’s asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes- but, oh, it’s so hard not to think I’ve done the wrong thing. He has two selves…what if, a year in, I decide that I can’t deal with it anymore? What if-
But no, I’m being absurd. I have been in love and in close contact with this man for over five bloody years. And it seems as if my trust in him, my love for him, has become a salve, and elixir, because Sky only takes over once every few weeks now-
But what if.
I suppose the question really is, what would I do without him? Would I be able to watch him wal away, not only from me, but from the progress he’s made towards healing the internal scars his father left on his soul? No, of course I can’t. I’ve lived without him once before and there is no way I could do that again.
The ones where she voices her misgivings are the hardest to read, but the most rewarding in the end, the ones that make me the surest of how she feels about me. She mentions being an elixir, a salve, but she has no idea how right she is.
Esme is the only person I’ve ever told, in entirety, about my father and the real reason I am the way I am. Other people knew parts of it, or they had guessed, but I told her everything, ever gory detail, every feeling I’ve ever bottled up. And that release has helped me control my inner demon to an extent I would have never imagined. In that sense, yes, she has been my elixir, but the love she has for me has gone a long way towards controlling Sky also. Because the last thing I want to do is hurt her. Not again.
November 17th, 1979
How are you today? I’m good thanks. Still pretending to be alive. Still missing him so much it’s eating away at my soul like some carnivorous beast. Even Dessy is starting to worry about me, and she is the only one who could possibly know what I’ve been going through. Nothing else to report.
When I came back, she was a shell of herself. She had always been thin, boyish almost, but the first time I saw her she looked like a refugee from a concentration camp. Her cheekbones were like mountains on her face, her joints and every bone in her body was scarily prominent. And her eyes were so empty. Their usual sparkle was gone; they seemed to have retreated back into some inner shell. And when she saw me, she hit the ground. I felt, honestly, in that moment, that I had killed her.
She would tell me later that she thought she had finally lost her mind, and the fear of that is what made her faint when I walked in. I didn’t catch her, but I was the one who woke her up. And she forgave me again, when I least deserved it. We have really never been apart for longer than a week since- and since we moved into the house together (about a month before we got married) we have rarely been apart for longer than a day or so. Today is one of those rare days where Esme is gone, and didn’t tell me where she was going. That’s why I’m up here- I went straight from waking up alone in our bed to these dusty boxes in our attic. I’m not worried about her having left me though- if I go down to our kitchen, there will no doubt be a note waiting for me. She hates making me worried.
Skylar,
I’m in London today, I’m at the doctor’s office.
Good news though- we could be expecting, and I want the doctor to see.
Probably stopping at Dessy’s and at the pastry shop to get some muffins- I noticed we’re out.
Forever Love, and, as always,
Esme
