|pictured_lives (pictured_lives) wrote in uprisingrpg,|
@ 2011-07-10 09:31:00
|Entry tags:||colin creevey|
What: Doing things that will be difficult
Where: The Island
Status: Complete; log
Colin had been doing a lot of thinking recently. A lot. He didn’t know if he could think anymore on the subject, really. He’d taken everything said into consideration, gone out on his own, spent time alone, and even talked with his mum. She didn’t exactly understand what he was going through, but she was supportive, and she listened as he talked on and on and on, settled in her lap like he’d done when he was younger. Yes, he was aware it might look silly, but he needed his mum. He needed her more than he needed anyone at this moment. It was really only in talking to her, in listening her explain what she was hearing as he spoke that he finally understood.
He stared one more time down at the list he’d made out in the woods. What he wanted. It had felt wrong and selfish to write it, but written it, he had. Then he made lists of what he was likely to end up with on both sides of the decision, making sure to be as true to both of them as possible. Then he looked at the lists. He studied them for what felt like hours. It was probably the longest he’d been still since before he could remember. “I’m sorry,” he murmured to no one in particular, fingers dancing over the letters idly. He didn’t like to make anyone sad, but he had no choice here.
Neither of the people he loved was making him choose. Dennis suggested it was how it had to be done, and if Dennis said it, it had to be right. That was the thing about Dennis, though. Right or wrong, his word was always listened to above anyone else’s. No one but Mum and Dad could be above Dennis. No one. He trusted Dennis, trusted him with everything that was a part of him. He didn’t think it was bad or unhealthy or any of the things he’d been told before. It just was.
There was a thing about realizations, though. Once you had them, you could never un-have them. They were always there, watching you when you looked at your reflection in a mirror or a car window or anything reflective, really. Even when you looked at yourself in photographs. It was there: blank and stark and staring. Colin looked at so many pictures. So many of them to gain more insight into himself and what he was feeling in particular situations. That had been when he saw a shift. He hadn’t even noticed it before, but he went from one Colin to still Colin...but different. Colin in love. That was weird to see. He’d seen it on other people, but never himself until then. So he realized, the first time, had been much earlier than he thought, which was strange. How come he hadn’t noticed? Maybe it was just that he was distracted from it.
He’d told Justin what happened, decided honesty was the best route. You couldn’t expect honesty without first giving it. He’d felt horrible when he said it, like he’d just told Justin he’d killed his favourite pet dog. Justin hadn’t left, though. He’d said he still wanted him and that had felt more amazing than anything. It didn’t stop the niggling feeling of guilt in his stomach, though. It made him uncomfortable and upset. Nothing on that level ever felt good. But Justin loved him and Zach loved him...and he loved them both.
His birthday had come and gone and now he was twenty. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He supposed that meant he was an adult, but in the wizarding world, you were an adult at seventeen. That was more mind boggling than anything else. Yes, he knew what he wanted to do with his life, but he had no idea how to be an adult. He wondered if anyone really did, though. All the same, he knew he had to be one. There was no turning back, no pretending nothing happened. In the end, like it or not, he had to choose. He’d taken a lot of things into consideration: what he wanted in regards to children, what he wanted family wise, disagreements, things that were good and bad, and anything else he could think of that related. He wasn’t sure what should be a factor and what shouldn’t, but he knew what inevitably would be a factor in his decision. For all intents and purposes, his decision was going to have to be based off how he felt and what he wanted and who fit into his wants the best. It was selfish and it felt a little wrong at times, but if he just did what someone else wanted because he didn’t want to say what he wanted and hurt someone, he wasn’t going to be happy. Perhaps that’s what growing up was: realizing what you wanted and realizing that not everything you did would make someone happy, but knowing that it wasn’t everyone else you had to please all the time. You had to make sure whatever it was you chose, you were happy.
Talking to his mother had been good. He told her what he wanted, what was happening, and how he felt. She pointed out the little things he hadn’t noticed in the way he said everything. She also told him that she’d love him no matter what he did or who he loved, so long as he made himself happy. That had been an important thing. She also brought a few points to his attention: the fact that, even though he wasn’t part of either relationship, Harry Potter was someone important to him. Not that he didn’t know that. Harry was his hero, the only hero he had that was still alive. Dean and Kevin and Su were dead now, even if Su and Kevin were ghosts together. Harry just mattered.
When she left, Colin felt a little empty and a little sad, but also much more aware of what everything meant. He just had to take some time to process it. He’d waited, pushing it aside while he focused on his birthday and on the stuff that led up to it. It was still always there, lurking, but he did his best to pretend it wasn’t. He was successfully distracted by presents and people, however. That had been nice. Three days all devoted to him, but now those three days were over and the longer he waited to make a decision, the longer he might draw out any hurt that could happen. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like what deciding meant either, though.
The talk with Zach’s father hadn’t been pleasant, and the talk after with Zach had been a little more painful because part of him quietly knew he was getting closer to a decision about what was going to happen. That meant that he was closer to having to tell someone about his decision. Two someones, even. Colin hated this idea. He hated knowing that there really was no way around it. He was nervous and happy and confused. It was unsettling, really. That didn’t matter, though. He had to make a decision and he had to deal with the consequences of those decisions.
It had taken more than a bit of effort to drag himself out of bed the other day. In fact, he was still struggling to stay out of bed, but he had to do this because if he didn’t, there was no way to fix anything. Drawing out the hurting because you were afraid of hurting people wasn’t going to help them any more than it was going to help him.
Letting out a small breath, he composed his messages, however small they were, to Zach and Justin. He didn’t know if he could do it in person. He had to, though. He had to for them. The idea terrified him, but there was no more time for pretending that every story ended happily. Not even Peter Pan ended happily. His refusal to grow up left him without his Wendy. Colin didn’t want to be without his Wendy, so that meant growing up. No matter how scary growing up sounded, Colin wasn’t doing this for “Wendy”, he was doing this for himself, for his own happiness. In the end, that’s what he had to remember.