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Oct. 2nd, 2004 09:05 pmI don't know Beth.
I know the curves of her breasts and the way her fingers feel on my skin, and the softness of her lips and the green of her eyes and the fit of our bodies, but I don't know her.
I know a little bit about her. Just a little. I know she's brave and she's full of guilt over something that wasn't her fault but shit, we all have some sort of weight to carry.
Beth doesn't know me. She knows a little about Julia, about my past, but not much. She's met Faye -- I guess that's something.
Here's what she doesn't know: I lost count a long time ago of how many people I've killed. There are two people left alive in the world that matter to me: Jet and Faye, and... well, maybe three. Maybe Ed matters, but she's a kid and I don't like kids. Didn't even like other kids when I was one, a couple lifetimes ago.
Here's some more shit she doesn't know: I'm no starry-eyed, melt-in-your-shoes romantic who's gonna go running in and save the girl. I'm an opportunist. I eat when there's food and I gamble when there's money and I sleep when it's quiet and I fight when I have to. I'm not impressed by helpless females. I like someone who's my equal intellectually, in their sense of adventure, in how brave they are or careless they are or reckless they are or how they perceive risks. I like women who can take care of themselves so I don't have to. Not because I'm lazy, but because I like self-sufficient people.
I eat everything with chopsticks. That's partly from growing up on Mars and partly because of Annie and Mao; they took me in when I was fifteen, taught me what I know about surviving. I don't give a shit what someone looks like or sounds like. I care what they do and if they're honest.
I like Beth. I like that she left me a note and went for a walk. I like that she's comfortable enough in her skin to not fall apart just because we've slept together. Right now I don't care if she loves me, but I care that she likes me. I care about that a lot, and for a long time I haven't cared about much... except chasing a dream that wasn't ever going to come true.
I know the curves of her breasts and the way her fingers feel on my skin, and the softness of her lips and the green of her eyes and the fit of our bodies, but I don't know her.
I know a little bit about her. Just a little. I know she's brave and she's full of guilt over something that wasn't her fault but shit, we all have some sort of weight to carry.
Beth doesn't know me. She knows a little about Julia, about my past, but not much. She's met Faye -- I guess that's something.
Here's what she doesn't know: I lost count a long time ago of how many people I've killed. There are two people left alive in the world that matter to me: Jet and Faye, and... well, maybe three. Maybe Ed matters, but she's a kid and I don't like kids. Didn't even like other kids when I was one, a couple lifetimes ago.
Here's some more shit she doesn't know: I'm no starry-eyed, melt-in-your-shoes romantic who's gonna go running in and save the girl. I'm an opportunist. I eat when there's food and I gamble when there's money and I sleep when it's quiet and I fight when I have to. I'm not impressed by helpless females. I like someone who's my equal intellectually, in their sense of adventure, in how brave they are or careless they are or reckless they are or how they perceive risks. I like women who can take care of themselves so I don't have to. Not because I'm lazy, but because I like self-sufficient people.
I eat everything with chopsticks. That's partly from growing up on Mars and partly because of Annie and Mao; they took me in when I was fifteen, taught me what I know about surviving. I don't give a shit what someone looks like or sounds like. I care what they do and if they're honest.
I like Beth. I like that she left me a note and went for a walk. I like that she's comfortable enough in her skin to not fall apart just because we've slept together. Right now I don't care if she loves me, but I care that she likes me. I care about that a lot, and for a long time I haven't cared about much... except chasing a dream that wasn't ever going to come true.
