i want to live. i want to go speeding through a city at night, screaming the lyrics to anything that comes on the radio. I want to go skinny dipping in the ocean at midnight, the cold water numbing my toes. I want to kiss someone like my life depends on it. i want to go stargazing on top of a hill. i want to live, and i want to live hard.
And when I drink, there is 1 of 2 outcomes. There are times I drink and thoughts of you escape briefly. And for that brief moment my heart doesn’t ache. Then there are times I drink and thoughts if you magnifies. And when this happens, I regret picking up that bottle.
If I’m being honest, then yes. Yes, it hurt. I’m not going to pretend that it didn’t. It wasn’t the sharp, crushing pain that you feel in your chest when you can’t stop crying & your whole body aches. It was more of a silent, dull pain. A pain that slowly crept in like a fog, suffocating my heart. Almost to the point where I couldn’t feel anything at all. To the point where I started to feel numb. Fading.
I could feel myself going numb. & it was tempting. To feel nothing at all instead of feeling this pulsating pain.
But, I realized, I didn’t want my heart to go numb. I didn’t want my heart to stop feeling. I could handle feeling this pain with each beat because as long as I felt it, it meant I was alive.
& as long as I was alive, even if it was painful in this moment, it meant that I had the chance to love again one day.
I’m kind of back by the way and my only update is that I just feel constantly numb. Things have happened that should make me happy or sad or angry but I don’t feel anything. I smile and laugh and cry when I’m around others but it’s all so false, I hate it, I’m becoming more reckless but I just want to feel emotions and make this numbness go away
I just want to drive with you on a bunch of back roads and get lost together and you’d listen to my music even though you hate it and you’d sing it with me.
I want to know how it feels to fall asleep next to someone I actually want to fall asleep with. I wouldn’t be worrying about the following morning, wondering if you’re going to get up before I do and walk away.
I want to put my hands on your face and I want to kiss you until your lips go numb.
I want to know how it’s possible to feel this much at once.
I want to sit with you for hours on my kitchen counter at night and talk about the universe and why it chose to place you on one end and me on the other.
I need to sit down with you and I need an explanation as to why things are so cruel and why nothing worked out in our favor.
Cross my heart and hope to die
Burn my lungs and curse my eyes
I’ve lost control and I don’t want it back
I’m going numb, I’ve been hijacked
It’s a fucking drag
I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you
So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do
You’re worse than nicotine
I want an awkward Severus, wringing his hands and looking away when he simply can’t handle the intensity in a room.
I want to see his eyes go black as he clears his mind, numb to upsetting situations around him because the only alternative is flailing and shouting to process the overload.
I want to see a thin, slightly bow-legged Severus, one who has obviously been malnourished for most of his life, even as an adult.
I want to see a scarred Severus, maybe with shadows of pockmarks on his face from having suffered old hexes to the face or the more mundane scourge of pimples. His back has long scars from having been beaten with his father’s belt for imagined offenses.
I want to see a frowning, scowling Severus, one who only smiles in the rare moments of joy and never pretends to be happier than he truly is.
I want to see a Severus with greasy hair that falls against his skull no matter what he does, or how much he washes.
I want to see a swooping, bat-like Severus, one who walks around (and probably hovers with Levicorpus) like a shadow because, for most of his life, he has had good reason to try and be as invisible as possible.
I want to see a hook-nosed Severus, who has a truly intimidating beak of a nose. He’s heard nearly every possible unflattering insult about the size of it, but he’ll never admit how insecure it makes him feel.
I want to see a pale Severus, his skin gaunt and yellowish as though he has a slight case of jaundice. I want to see his yellow, crooked teeth and his sneers and his grumbling disapproval.
I want to see Severus with flaws, because I love his character just as much as “Smooth Severus Who Is Somewhat More Perfect Than He Should Be,” and he deserves just as much love.