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Laying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, it was the middle of the night. Just a normal insomnia episode.
Like during any other one, JD’s thoughts had started to wrangle into themselves, shape curving and becoming almost incoherent.
They were trying to make him weak, go through his mental shield, slipping through the cracks and causing him to break into pieces of himself he never wanted to look at.
But there was no escape, his mind was ruthless, especially to itself. This was what led his emotions out in the open, where he couldn’t do anything but confront them.
His apathy was what came. You’d think love would be first, but that feeling only took center stage the moment Veronica entered the room. Wherever she wasn’t was numb.
It was so weird to feel a distinction, what used to be his norm was now so lackluster he could physically feel the claustrophobicness of it all making him suffocate.
The only way to breathe had become her. Her words, even just her presence, made living easy.
Easy to continue walking through the endless chamber of shit being thrown at him by the universe constantly.
But that made the emptiness in her absence that much worse.
Everything would go back to the stillness it once was in, time both moving and unmoving. Rotting and collecting dust. No escape from the ticking bomb that life puts on us all, as there was no use in doing.
It wasn’t like he didn’t try, it just felt worthless. Collecting knowledge, to gain what? Sure, he could tell Veronica interesting facts, but no other things came to mind. Seeking personal pleasure? His only other happiness came from what was practically his opium, but he knew how little they worked since she came.
He had already resigned long before her to his existence being forgotten once he died. He found pleasure in not imagining a future, nothing having any value at all, only trying to maintain a facade of meaning by pursuing morals.
But now those also were beginning to crumble. They were twisting and turning, taking the shape of his lover, becoming herself the compass guiding them.
Now though, what was left of him wasn’t just a shell, empty and broken, he was now also waiting. For her to come like she always did, filling him with his purpose, because he was sure he would never beat the apathy nor be able to ever go back how things were before.
As the most dangerous thing she ever gifted him wasn’t her love, it was the will to protect it.