Dead Dreams

Fourteen

Ruth is a flower among thorns. I had not met another person before, but I already knew what many of them were like. I read a lot in my spare time. Magazines, encyclopedias, and non-fiction. Reading what people would do to each other over things that never truly mattered made me nauseous. It also made me feel empathetic. I wished for nothing more than to save those who had been wronged. Despite that, there was nothing I could do, because I lived in a separate reality from everyone I had read about.

Now, that isn't true anymore.

Of course, I have never read about Ruth, but that doesn't mean she isn't easy to read. At least lately, she has been more talkative and less guarded with her emotions. Before, she would drop the emotion from her face in a second,  and bothered me immensely. If she could do it that quickly, it means she had practice. Gauging from what she told me earlier today... She doesn't have a good home life. Her family must have hurt her badly.

I really hate that, because Ruth is very, very heartfelt. I can see that when she tries not to show me her needs that she feels might stress me, and when she tries to comfort and assure me when I seem to be hurting. Ruth tries to put me before herself, because that seems to be what she is used to.

Simultaneously, she tries to make herself as unnoticeable as possible, not talking unless spoken to, not talking up space, not living,

Because that is what she is used to.

Oh Ruth.

How badly my heart hurts for you is something that isn't even describable with words. I wish you could be comfortable with me, so you could tell me everything you've been holding in for so long.

I want to be able to heal everything that hurts within you.

But that will only work if you trust me.

I know it's hard for you, so I will put every effort into this myself. I will be someone you deem worthy of trusting, of being a companion to you.

I finish up my thoughts there, as I turn off the lukewarm water of the shower. After Ruth and I had come back from the forest, I tried talking with her some more, but she seemed unfocused. I figured that she wanted space today, so I left her to her own devices in the living room, coming down occasionally to cook for her. After leaving her a spare set of clothes to sleep in, this time negating the boxers, I spent the rest of my time up in my room, which I hardly minded. I had a few books to read anyway.

I step out of the shower, grabbing a towel for my hair and body.

'I wonder if Ruth decided to shower too.' I wonder, wiping the moisture off my body, and squeezing it from my hair.

I feel a few tingles upon thinking all the way through the thought, the feeling not cold, unpleasant, or unwelcome to my body. I nearly slap myself from the reaction.

'That thought was perverse and I will never think about it ever again.'

Ruth is pretty, but I can be perfectly happy admiring her without being indecent.

I abandon the towels, quickly changing into a matching set of dark purple silk pajamas, My favorite pair.

I keep my mind blank as I apply the usual products to my hair, and as I dry it, as I wash my face, as I turn off the lights, and as I pull up the comforter to sleep.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

The smell of smoke is potent through the trees.

I run to the source, though not because I don't understand what is happening. There is a fire, and the person I'm seeking is at its core.