Work Text:
Josette, you need to stop looking at me like that. With pity. With those wet, glassy eyes.
I'm more than just a tragedy, more than just the misery and bitterness that burn right through me, more than just someone who got away and became untouchable. I'm not someone who I used to be, you're not either. But who I was (who you were), made me who I am (who you are).
Josette, you don't want me. You shouldn't hate the kiss you never tasted, the one you never desired. You shouldn't tear yourself apart for short-lived happiness that's nothing but a half-hearted smile. You never wanted that house in the cul-de-sac, nor a family of four with a dog named Joe. You never wanted that life. You wanted a life of endless rides in Tanzania, a life of frequent trips to the stripper bar, a life where you could stay on stage for as long as you wanted. You wanted to live lovingly, passionately—out loud. You wanted a life of throwing your head back and stretching your arms wide. You wanted something that lingers, one you could take to your grave.
You can fool everyone, even yourself, but you can't fool me. There's not a single dream of yours I haven't heard, even though you disguise them as mere impulsive fantasies. Most things aren't real these days, and I know you can feel it in your bones just as much as I feel it in mine. This could end in so many ways, but Josette, I don't want it to end with us coming out in shame and regret. I don't want it to end with the fire eating us alive.
So stop. [Stop looking at me like that.]
Stop trying so hard.
You don't want that, you don't want me.
I know, that's okay.