DISCLAIMER: ANY AND ALL HATEFUL/NEGATIVE COMMENTS WILL BE IGNORED AND PROMPTLY REMOVED. THIS IS A SAFE SPACE.
word count: 1,716
warnings: language, general anxiety, negative self depiction
description: Reader reflects upon their flaws and what J sees in them. Alternatively, reader is the polar opposite of J and struggles with accepting this.
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اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Reclamation of spirit preceded J's cognitive dissonance, yet the principle eluded him; far too many of the emotions you experienced passed right over J's head, not by want or the desire to remain indifferent, but because he processed them much differently than you. J saw not what others appeared to be, but who they were, right down to the fundamental values each one of them clung to, for one reason or another. His painted visage masked himself so that his talent for uncovering the truth could not be reversed, never one to play fairly was he, but he never claimed difficulty seeing through those around him. From one fleeting glance, he perhaps knew you better than you had ever known yourself and it did not make sense to you, that if he could truthfully see you, what his fascination might be.
You did not fit properly within the mold of societal constraints your community of peers attempted to place the weight of upon your shoulders, that much was true, yet you protested not once to any of whom might hear. If the roles were reversed, you could not envision J making such a fuss, if your only grievance was how isolated you had let yourself become.
He thrived on his own, took root and established himself upon the fringes of society like tangled vines of ivy which clung vigorously to any solid structure it could climb upon. J sapped the energy out of all he encountered, drained them of their innocence and marveled at how quickly he could break them. He took what he needed, that which allowed him to grow, to survive, and left behind nothing but devastation. J was a parasite that leeched onto any unsuspecting host and bled them dry; you were no exception.
Or so you had thought.
You were different than him, some would say the two of you were polar opposites; the amount of critical thinking it would take on your part to reason with the intelligent part of your brain that warned you against people like J would be enough to blow a circuit. You were so far removed from his lifestyle that you came to no definitive conclusions as to what he saw in you. What kept him coming back for more? You were not afraid of the dark man whom you had taken for a lover, but some intrinsic need to keep quiet and not give a voice to your impeding thoughts or maybe it was self-preservation, kept you from asking him for an explanation each time the thought crossed your mind.
It was only your anxiety come to life, you repeated to yourself like a mantra. That was what anxiety felt like to you: waiting for that relief to come, the ascent to the top of that hill only to come plummeting back down to earth on the roller coaster ride of your life, except that drop never came. That feeling never faded; once you reached that pinnacle, the finish line extended and you had that much further to go. That feeling alone was enough to make anyone crazy... or at least turn them cruel, dark-hearted like the troubled antagonists that haunted your television screen who could somehow never win despite their best efforts to prove that the world they had been born into could never accept them because they were just too ahead of the curve.
