Enjolras isn't a statue, really (solo_patria) wrote in valarnet, @ 2013-05-01 05:16:00 |
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Current mood: | anxious |
Entry tags: | alyssa hamilton, enjolras |
Oh My God
I am graduating in just over six weeks. Just.Over.Six.Weeks.
With all of this chaos going around, and trying to fix things, while mentally retreating into 1832, like I did again tonight, with a particularly vivid dream I did not like but was proud of myself during, if I'm allowed to say such things, even though I know they do not MATTER, interrupting my essay, I'm..not sure what I am going to do. According to records, I am still eligible for Summa status, but if I fuck even one thing up in the next few weeks, even one, which might very well happen because of all of this, I don't know WHAT the fuck I am going to do.
And there's a job to keep looking for, before the branch office opens here and I go in to talk to the people, and deadlines that I have to keep and there was a firing squad tonight. A firing squad that focused on me, and, as much as I knew that it was over, because Combeferre and Courfeyrac and Joly and Bossuet and Jehan and Marius and Bahorel and Feuilly weren't there or I had seen them fall, or heard it. or inferred, I was terrified. I am ashamed that I felt fear starring into their guns and faces, when I had no call to feel anything but gratitude that I had been granted my chance to save Patria and would soon be going to join my friends. I still felt fear as I looked down those barrels, and I hate myself for that, and I still feel fear now, remembering that, and thinking about the next several weeks ahead.
I'm starring down another barrel, and it's obvious that in the other world, I am about to die while starrng down it, seemingly alone and terrified, though I can only hope I do not look it, and that Patria and the examples of my friends, do not find me wanting because of that fear that managed to take over me, that my refusal to show it, and to face what comes will work. In this world, the barrel I am starring at is singular, instead of by a squad, and yet, I feel the same way I did there. Completely terrified of what's to come, and like I am hardly doing a good enough job to fake not being so afraid.
I wish I understood. I truly do.
I owe some of my friends some letters still. I will have them sent out to all of you soon.