Re: Quicklog, Carnival: Cat/Reece
[Rejection had never loomed. It wasn't like it was Godzilla or something, one gigantic lizard foot lifted and ready to come down at any moment. Their relationship wasn't poor Tokyo—or whatever city it was—about to be laid waste to by a monster birthed in like, a volcano vent on the ocean floor. The fact that Cat saw rejection looming and reacted accordingly—not now, but before—was sorta kinda part of the problem, wasn't it? Because they couldn't move around it. She couldn't. To see Reece, to even get what he might maybe be trying to say, she had to, and she couldn't.
So, no, there was no rejection looming, but that wasn't because Reece was drunk off his ass.—Reece did yell at the attendant though. Who yelled back, by the way, and the ride started with a mechanical lock, hiss, and grind, and up they went, a little bucket swinging between spindles or whatever. He looked at Cat as they ascended, the carnival growing smaller beneath them, and he just scoffed at her. She could be so narrow-minded in so many ways.] I'm not talking about other people. You compare yourself—you compare us—to everyone, to everything, and, man, it's not that deep, right? I'm talking about us. I don't care what makes us different. It doesn't even matter. What I'm saying is, it's not all that permanent. Fuck the painting metaphor. It's like, what you feel in one moment won't be what lasts forever and ever and ever and ever and ever, but while you're in that moment, man, you can't imagine anything else. You gotta get real.