| Day 22 of 29. Tristan. |
[22 Feb 2016|06:01pm] |
All their arguments always come back to the same point. It doesn't stop them from arguing, of course, but they don't argue to prove that they're right anymore. It's almost as if they argue because that's the only way they can relate with each other. It's not a proper conversation until voices are raised and feelings are broken (but men - and in particular men who are typically addressed by their titles rather than their names - aren't supposed to take it personally and their venomous attacks are meant to bounce off their armours).
It doesn't matter what she says, or does, because she will always be the woman who replaced his dead mother. It doesn't matter what he says, or does, because he will always be the husband who failed his murdered wife, the father who failed his abandoned children, the king who failed his wretched country. And it doesn't matter what they say, or do, because sharing a last name and sharing few responsibilities and even sharing one gene pool can't bring the half-siblings closer.
He used to be angry and bitter and resentful. It wasn't the drugs or the alcohol that changed that. Just time. You had to give a damn to still be angry, bitter or resentful, but enough time had passed that the feeling was no longer there.
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