Freud and his Friends

Freud
and His Friends - 5 - Curiosity killed the cat

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It
was a bad night. Bad in the sort of dramatic
'my-heart-is-breaking-and-I-can-feel-it' sort of way. His emotions were
on overdrive, and he didn't know what to do about it. The world felt restless.
He could hear the sound of life from outside their house, insistent sounds
coming from the neighbors, their dogs, sounds of cars driving my.

Every
new sound pushed him to do something, to cry out to someone, to go and be a
part of this life filling everything around these rooms. But the one he
was supposed to feel alive with, to live with, to share with, was gone,
mindlessly gone. With no care, and no knowledge of what he
did by not being there. Draco wondered for a minute how could it be that
they felt so differently right now. One was probably having the time of his
life with his friends, being a part of the hum of life, with no need for the
other to make it possible. He might even feel a relief from being apart. The
other, himself, was sitting alone, caged, unable to push himself out of the
house and to be around others right now. Unable to believe
that he would feel a part of them even if he moved among them. And he
needed his half to be there if he wanted to feel.

Except,
was he still his half? And would his presence really help? It hasn't been
helping for a while now. He felt caged inside himself, and the one who used to
make him feel free couldn't get through, and only made the feeling worse
sometimes. Did he cage himself or was it his better half that did? And maybe
his better half didn't mean Harry, maybe it meant something inside class=GramE>himself; something that knew better, has caged him. Maybe it
knew something he didn't.

He
wanted to call Dr. Carring and demand a meeting.
Right now – while things were at the surface, threatening to burst out. He
couldn't, though. It wouldn't be polite. He didn't want to alienate his own
shrink – who knows what that might do to him in the long run? style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Moreover it was unnecessary. He had a meeting
scheduled for tomorrow morning. In just a few hours.
He should just go to bed and sleep through those hours. Yes, that's the right
thing to do. 'No need to over-dramatize, just remember Draco, you live in a
world of reason, things are scheduled, your problems aren't that big, it's not
a war starting over, it's just you angsting a little over your boyfriend not
being home. Stay in this world; it's not such a big deal, you won't actually
explode from the confusion of it all. There really isn't much to be confused
about. You should just go to sleep, and get back to normal.'

He
would if he could. Except his thoughts were swirling around in circles in his
head, and he was so energized he could have climbed the walls and reached the
ceiling. He considered breaking some china, he heard
that helps sometimes, but when he imagined doing that it didn't feel like it
would make things better. And he kept thinking about putting something on the
floor so that the cleaning would be easier, and he couldn't chose which china
to use – it's not like any of the plates did something against him, right? And
he couldn't understand what was wrong with him – to keep thinking about such
trivialities; and why in the world would he care about cleaning?

But,
still, breaking china was not an option, and he just sat there, on their couch,
in their living room, in their house, caged in his own body, 'or was it
mind' staring at the book he tried reading earlier in the evening – just as
he was sitting and staring for the last two hours. No matter that he had enough
nervous energy to run a marathon right now. In the end in search of something to
do he broke down and decided to at least push all the thought on
paper, if he couldn't talk to his shrink right now. He was surprised how fast
the words came out – as if they were waiting for a while now.

~~~

I,
Draco Malfoy,

Don't
know if he loves me still. When things are alright, he looks at me, and all I
see is habit, comfort. I only see fire when we fight. But
less and less now. I begin to see habit there as well, habit and
annoyance. And I fear it, but what I fear more is the fact that some perverse
part of me wants to see it, wants to see how far will it
hold till love breaks and nothing is left. And that part is what really rules
me.

I'm
my own experiment. I'm my own experiment.

I
wonder what it will do to me to break us up. I wonder how it will feel to lose
him. I wonder how his eyes will look when things finally break. class=GramE>How they will look then, and a week from then, and then a month
from then. He'd better still feel something for a long time when we
break apart.

But
I won't let it go that far. I'll fight to keep him, I'll fight myself, and if I
can't fight myself I will fight him when he decides to leave. I will do all I
can to keep him. I love him, isn't that what you're supposed to do when you
love someone? Hold on to them?

~~~

And
once he threw it all on the paper he felt relieved and blissfully empty.
Finally, he felt just – normal.

When
he re-read the words, he couldn't quite recognize them as his own.

He had
really over-reacted. How silly of him. He should just go to sleep.

And
he did.

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A/N:
You know, I got flamed a few days ago for 'constantly pleading for reviews' in
my "Love by Numbers" story… I didn't feel that I plead that much, I
still don't. But at the same time I now feel queasy even mentioning that I'd
like reviews. So I won't. Hope you guys have a good week and that you liked the
chapter. That's it.