To See the Tormented Woe

Snowmageddon III has hit, and this time The Burg is down for the count.  None of this, “Hey, three hour delay coming into work,” stuff now:  the state has shut down like that.  Mostly because it’s suppose to be like this all day. Which means I’ll be in the apartment today, and probably on a start delay tomorrow.  After that–who knows?  My guess would be more snow and wind and icy crap for weeks to come.

"How's that cold bothering you now, honey?  Maybe you need a glacier to get you in the mood?"

“How’s that cold bothering you now, honey? Maybe a glacier would get you in a better mood!”

You should let it go, Elsa.

Finished Annie’s big reveal last night, and it was a lot bigger than I’d ever anticipated it running.  Kerry’s meeting with Vicky ran fifteen hundred words:  last night’s scene between Annie and Deanna ran a little over four thousand.  But Annie has a lot more on her mind, you can bet on that.

She got past all the stuff about being a selfish little girl and got into the part that really bothered her–namely, how it was that she’d seen a certain kid in her dreams for quite some time–meaning most of her so far short life–and how she’d developed an attraction for said kid because when they’re right there in your dreams, waiting for you like a cute little kitty, you don’t walk away from that, at least not willingly.

Here is the conundrum:  things like lake houses and bedrooms and getting mama’s books on sorcery, that’s not a big deal.  Parents can say no, but as Annie pointed out, she knows how to work them.  The things themselves?  They can’t say jack.  They go along for the ride.

What happens when the thing you want can say no?  What happens when you’ve geared your life around knowing someone, and believing that they are going to be happy being a part of your life–and then you realize, hey, this dude might have other thoughts, particularly since it doesn’t appear as if he’s completely on-board with the whole, “I’m in love with you,” thing.  Yeah, he’s trying, and I’m pushing, and–

What if in the end it’s a big-badda-boom?  What if there is no passing Go, no collecting two hundred dollars?  What if there is no Multipass at the end of the Salem School rainbow?

Throughout the scene there were hints that the tears were coming:  here, there, you’d see a few drips.  By the end of the scene she was crying so hard she was flinging them to the sides of the Deanna the Seer’s office.  It’s wasn’t a nice moment, but then, getting the kids to cry is my business.  I don’t always like it, but I always have a reason.

It still made me feel bad.  Any time anyone cries because they’re afraid they’ll lose love, it’s a horrible moment.  Such as it was when I finished writing, I started listening to some tunes I hadn’t heard in a while, stuff that brought a smile to my face when I was feeling down.  Like . . .

Yeah, I can see Kerry listening to this while he flies.