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Fanon:Thea Donnybrook: Difference between revisions
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==Thea Donnybrook's Diary==
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My life isn't a story. If it were, perhaps it'd be more enjoyable. In stories, there are rarely superfluous details. I could be confident that anyone who made an appearance was set to play a large role. And oh, the foreshadowing! If my eye lingered on some object for a moment too long, I'd know it were significant. If my life were a story, I'd be both the protagonist and the reader and I could be sure that things would wrap up neatly. Any secrets I had would come out, any desires I had would be fulfilled.
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I bought a beater of a home, but it's actually quite lovely in a worn sort of way. It's all wooden and maybe rotten in some areas, but it's surrounded with these gorgeous willow trees and even has a pond in the front yard. At night, the crickets sing me to sleep. It was really the only place in town I could afford. Nearly all my money from the Donnybrooks went to the house, but I have a home now. I didn't realize until just writing that that this is the first time I can remember that I actually have a home that is mine in any sense.
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When I said the mornings are beautiful here, I was assuming those were mornings greeted with an able body and a full night's rest.
School was always easy for me. I see now how lucky I was. I never had to study for tests and reading is actually something I enjoy. I guess I've never had to work hard at anything. Despite my early childhood, I think I've been pampered and spoiled.
My whole body aches. I joined the gym, but I'm not even sure that was necessary now. My duty may be in the latrines but they don't skimp on the PT. I can't simply stop when I am tired. My body is not my own; it belongs to the military. I am forced to push myself to the very edge, until my vision is beginning to go. In order to be on base in time to report, I must go to sleep very early.
My supervisor, McIrish, an older woman, mentioned she has a daughter around my age. I'm not feeling too lonely yet, but it's good to know I have a potential friend out there. I can hardly write as my arm is shaking with fatigue.
===August 18, 2005===
I didn't realize I've been keeping to myself until McIrish pointed it out. Things have gotten just slightly more relaxed. My body's moved past its panicked stage (from going from having never worked out before to being pushed to the breaking point almost daily) to a more manageable ache, only when I go too far. I go to the gym on my days off, but I don't talk to anyone there. I talk to McIrish and Officer Kennedy every day I work and that satisfies any longing I have to talk to anyone. But McIrish, being too maternal for her own good, is concerned that an 18-year-old doesn't do anything but work, work out, and sleep.
I don't want to go claiming uniqueness. I mean, goodness, I'm rather regular. I know I am not special. But I do appear to have an aptness for keeping to myself. I guess other people long for friendship and I've never felt that. Though, to not paint me as a total sociopath, why do I write in this diary? Maybe I do want someone to talk to.
I hate teen drama TV shows that have "losers" who are miracuously just as attractive as the popular people. Actually, in my mind, generally more attractive (am I the only one who has never had a thing for blonds?). That's not how real life works. We like to pretend we're not shallow, but it's human nature.
As a normal-looking (large-breasted) girl, I wasn't put in the loser category. I wasn't given plenty of attention by my peers, and I wasn't bullied more than anyone else might be in high school. But I never took to any one group. I felt like a nomadic teenager, talking to whoever chose to talk to me, accepting invitations but never offering them. I've never had a best friend. Maybe it has something to do with being yanked out of school after school when I was younger. Why make friends when you're just going to leave them months later? Of course, that was never consciously my reasonsing. It's just the way I am. I think.
But McIrish has been bugging me about this. Saying I need to socialize. She read some study that says being a hermit decreases one's lifespan substantially. That poor Agnes Crumplebottom I keep hearing about won't live to see 30. Anyway, she's been urging me to come visit her at home and meet her daughter -- apparently she just got engaged and McIrish wants to ensure I'm invited to the wedding in order to meet even more people. I'm not against it, I'm just not stoked. It's nice to have no one depending on me. (Says the woman who joined the military...). Well, we'll see how it goes. Maybe McIrish will accept that I'm fine how I am.
===August 21, 2005===
So ... I took a workout class the other day on my day off, and after feeling starved decided to head into town to grab something to eat. When I got there, I immediately realized I'd look like an idiot eating by myself (or would I? Would it give off the strong independent woman vibe?). But then I saw this guy in the park and ...
Okay, I know it's just my brain flooding with horrible chemicals to confuse the logical side of me, but holy hell, I think I'm in love. Did my brain hit puberty late, or something? I've never recalled this feeling of ... pure animal attraction.
I'm not even sure he's objectively that attractive. I mean, I recognize Parker Langerak is basically a model, and Chris Steel is a very handsome guy (okay, I admit, I've been indulging in some serious gossiping with McIrish -- she's lived here ever since River was a baby; I've got all the dirt) but ... something in me wanted to pounce on this guy.
His name is Xander Clavell. He's older than me. 15 years older. Is that too old? According to McIrish, the age isn't really the problem. According to McIrish, he's a jerk and I should never, ever get involved with him. He "uses" girls, she says. Is it so wrong that I kind of want him to "use" me? McIrish just scoffed when I swooned over him. She doesn't think he's cute. ("Why can't you find a nice guy, like Holden?" she asked). That doesn't really matter though, I think he's cute. Not cute, but ... I want to feel his lips brush against mine ... I could go into more detail, but we don't need a romance novel here.
So I stared at him and he looked up and smiled (do cute guys practice smiling or something?) and said hey and I said it back all nervously and giggly and stupid and then I darted away like my house was on fire. He probably thinks I'm crazy. McIrish says he probably likes my ... anatomy. Way to make a lady feel like her intellect is appreciated.
I'm being stupid, I know it, but I'm not saying I want a relationship with him. I just want to press myself against him. Is that so terrible?
I have yet to meet River. But McIrish begrudgingly told me that Xander will be attending her wedding. So, yeah, I'm stopping by to meet River soon.
===August 28, 2005===
I stopped by McIrish's home on a weekend. It was so busy. There's River, and then their roommate Molly, who has a little girl of her own. Everyone was home and together and laughing. I've honestly never been in a home like that. I commented to McIrish at some point (it's harder to call her by her last name outside of work -- River gets confused!) that their home was so different than mine. She asked if I missed living with others. Rather than explain that my home growing up was nothing like this, I sort of shrugged and said no. I don't miss it, but it wasn't any different than it is now. And truthfully, I don't come home sad to be alone. It's nice to not have to compromise with anyone over how things are. It's my space.
River sort of looks like me. At least we have the same color and style of hair. Maybe that's why McIrish is so motherly towards me. When I made a slight mention of Xander, River looked cautious. I assume McIrish told her about my crush. River immediately started talking about how he wasn't someone I should date. I know, I know. I also don't care.
I feel like people think I want to marry him or something. I don't. I've gotten enough warnings about him to know he's not someone to invest him. But he puts butterflies in my stomach like I've never felt so I'm going to run with that. I'm not stupid and I think I've shown I can take care of myself pretty well.
===September 01, 2005===
Wow. The wedding's off -- Holden and River broke up. McIrish is devastated. She adored Holden and already considered him a son-in-law. I expressed hope that it could just be a cold feet sort of thing, but apparently River won't talk about it at all. I'm sad for them. What could cause someone to reach a point where you're going to spend the rest of your lives together and then suddenly decide to ... not? What happened?
(And selfishly, I wonder, when will I see Xander again if it's not going to be at their wedding?)
Poor McIrish. I know this is River's tragedy, but I know McIrish just ... really wanted her family to be just a bit larger. She's such a loving woman. After a deep talk about it during lunch, she hugged me and said she was glad she still had me, daughter number two. I can't even explain how emotional that made me.
===October 10, 2005===
Honestly, I'm exhausted. I work, I work out, and when I get a chance to relax, that's all I want to do. I don't want to go on all these dates McIrish keeps trying to set me up on. Thankfully my duty station was changed to something less degrading than latrines (mess hall) but somehow, it's harder. I'm never strong enough, or fast enough. I try so hard outside of work to build up my strength, but it's still not enough. And as a result, I'm so tired.
And I'm really not making enough money. My house needs a serious makeover, but I can barely afford to pay the bills and keep myself fed. I actually sold a tree in my yard for lumber so I could afford a cheap computer to help me unwind. Thankfully, after a year in the military, I get an automatic promotion with a raise and a bonus. And then only a few more years until I'm a squad leader, provided I can pass the test.
I don't have much time to think, but when I do, I ask myself, why am I doing this?
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