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So I am reading about torts as one does (if one's new life goal is to somehow make Law Review. And then work for Wachtell), and I'm pretty happy that I find all the caveats and definitions engaging and not, you know, mind-numbingly dull. Anyways, it led to a conversation that went something like this:
Boyfriend: Hey, I'm glad you're enjoying your law books! But aren't you worried about all the rage you'll no doubt feel when you read through the cases?
Me: Why would I feel rage?
Boyfriend: You know, when you read about a decision that's completely unjust and that you really disagree with.
Me: Oh, I don't really have strong feelings about decisions. I just think about how interesting and solid the legal reasoning was.
Boyfriend: What is wrong with you?
(I've since come to the conclusion that this actually means I'm scholarly versus amoral. Yes.)
I sometimes entertain myself by telling myself stories (kind of in a watching a movie in my imagination form), and there's two guys who live in this pre-industrial communal village type setting. And one of the guys used to be basically the big shot in the village but gets excommunicated for like impregnating the virgin (there are all these rules as to what this means). The other guy, who's basically wanted him for forever, starts a kind of tenuous sex-exchange with him, and there's all this angst about how as they get closer, whether it's a feeling of obligation or sympathy, what the level of attachment really is, self-doubt, etc.
Anyways, at one point, I actually locked myself in the bathroom and literally just sobbed for 10 minutes (in the dark for added drama) thinking about how they would have this ~intense~ moment where they both think the other is saying goodbye and letting them down gently, and they're trying to let go and not cling to whatever shreds the other person will give him because they've never defined anything and they have no right to ask for more. And because they are both too much of John Sheppards to ever talk about feelings aloud. Or even admit to them in their heads.
I don't know, ok? It was like there was this high emo angst drama moment playing out in my head, and I was just thinking about how I feel so bad for them and how I wish they could just know how the other felt and how it would be so nice if they can just move on to the happy ending, but no, I knew they had to hurt each other more before they can really understand each other and come to terms with how much they value the other person first. In my head.
Boyfriend: Hey, I'm glad you're enjoying your law books! But aren't you worried about all the rage you'll no doubt feel when you read through the cases?
Me: Why would I feel rage?
Boyfriend: You know, when you read about a decision that's completely unjust and that you really disagree with.
Me: Oh, I don't really have strong feelings about decisions. I just think about how interesting and solid the legal reasoning was.
Boyfriend: What is wrong with you?
(I've since come to the conclusion that this actually means I'm scholarly versus amoral. Yes.)
I sometimes entertain myself by telling myself stories (kind of in a watching a movie in my imagination form), and there's two guys who live in this pre-industrial communal village type setting. And one of the guys used to be basically the big shot in the village but gets excommunicated for like impregnating the virgin (there are all these rules as to what this means). The other guy, who's basically wanted him for forever, starts a kind of tenuous sex-exchange with him, and there's all this angst about how as they get closer, whether it's a feeling of obligation or sympathy, what the level of attachment really is, self-doubt, etc.
Anyways, at one point, I actually locked myself in the bathroom and literally just sobbed for 10 minutes (in the dark for added drama) thinking about how they would have this ~intense~ moment where they both think the other is saying goodbye and letting them down gently, and they're trying to let go and not cling to whatever shreds the other person will give him because they've never defined anything and they have no right to ask for more. And because they are both too much of John Sheppards to ever talk about feelings aloud. Or even admit to them in their heads.
I don't know, ok? It was like there was this high emo angst drama moment playing out in my head, and I was just thinking about how I feel so bad for them and how I wish they could just know how the other felt and how it would be so nice if they can just move on to the happy ending, but no, I knew they had to hurt each other more before they can really understand each other and come to terms with how much they value the other person first. In my head.
no subject
It means you're well-suited to a career in law. If you bristled at every decision you didn't agree with -- instead of looking at it from the perspective of whether or not it was *legal* (rather that your personal and subjective view of *right*) -- you'd never survive as a lawyer.
In my head.
I had to laugh at that. Not so much because it makes me worry for you, as... I do that. For every longish story I've written that's reasonable, mature and has... y'know, characters who respond like people instead of characters stuck in a melodrama, I've spent hours lying in bed at night, thinking through other plots.
They're always these incredibly intense and overblown emotional stories, where the boys not only have doubts but act on them, breaking each other's hearts while trying to do the right thing. There are angst-filled declarations and, yeah, I tend to talk through the dialogue (playing both roles, of course) and sometimes, yes, I make myself teary. Over a scenario I'd never write in the light of day.
I have, on occasion, even indulged in the same detailed, over-emotional plots for original characters or weird sequels for one-shots.
I'd beat myself up about it, but really, if we weren't the types to fiction seriously and personally, we wouldn't be fannish types.
no subject
I will confess, that totally made me feel better! I was basically convinced that I'm the only one who does stuff like this. (Although for some reason, mine are never fannish and always in the forms of movies. I think it's because I'm the laziest writer in the world and just like to think in terms of pictures. This is sometimes confusing when I'm trying to think up generic anonymous hot guys to be my characters and it's all "yes cheek bones like this" and "just the right amount of stubble" and "his hair needs to be like so but his must be like this".)
But dude, that dialogue thing! So tricky when you're living with someone else, and you don't want to think that you've gone completely insane and started talking to yourself. (Not good when combined with random bursts of sobbing either.) I do sometimes whisper it out loud though anyway. Or I'd say it in the shower and then throw people off with a bit of singing so I could just be like, "Oh, I was probably humming. The water was so loud so that's why you must have thought I was talking. Yes."
In conclusion, I just want to say: Angsty romance fantasiers of the world, unite! ♥