.... I still miss him, I still love him, I know I should condemn him, but even now, even though it has been years, I still... I still look for him. I still want to hear his voice. He was my whole world even when he...
... Am I... am I broken? Is there something... something wrong with me?
Gilia, no. You're not fucking broken. That's what abusive people do--they make you love them. He probably loved you, too, what are you supposed to do, not love your family?
... I do not know what I would be, without my family.
[ She frowns, closes her eyes, trying to will the tension out of her forehead. Why does that not sound as hopeful as she wants it to? ]
I have been so frightened, since the day he died. I have these dreams, sometimes. These awful, awful dreams... he drags me into his grave, where we executed him, and I watch a battle come. No matter what I do, I cannot stop it. He pulls my hair and makes me cry like when were children, he holds me so tightly and tells me he loves me all my days and that no one else would.
...In your dreams. [ His deep sigh and the way he tips back in the chair doesn't come across the connection. ] In your dreams, do you ever tell him you love him?
He did... he did something very, very bad, and... and a lot of people have been hurt. [ More and more she realised how it had all spun so far out of control. ]
... But I think most of all I wish selfishly, that he had not done it, because then I never would have been Queen. It is easier to be a disappointment when no one thinks much of you. I could have been in a Nunnery, devoting my life in prayer and readings, I could have been married, with children of my own by now.
Now I am Queen, and every day is misery, and... and if he had not...
Tell him that. Tell him you don't want to be Queen. Tell him anything in the dream that he hasn't heard. Maybe that's something you need to get out of your head. Put it to rest with him. You can't change the past. Worrying about the people stuck there...it's no good, Gil.
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cw: abusive codependant relationships
... Am I... am I broken? Is there something... something wrong with me?
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Gilia, no. You're not fucking broken. That's what abusive people do--they make you love them. He probably loved you, too, what are you supposed to do, not love your family?
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[ She frowns, closes her eyes, trying to will the tension out of her forehead. Why does that not sound as hopeful as she wants it to? ]
I have been so frightened, since the day he died. I have these dreams, sometimes. These awful, awful dreams... he drags me into his grave, where we executed him, and I watch a battle come. No matter what I do, I cannot stop it. He pulls my hair and makes me cry like when were children, he holds me so tightly and tells me he loves me all my days and that no one else would.
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Always.
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No, no I do not think I have.
I do not know if I have, at all.
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[ She has to think, for a long time on that. ]
He did... he did something very, very bad, and... and a lot of people have been hurt. [ More and more she realised how it had all spun so far out of control. ]
... But I think most of all I wish selfishly, that he had not done it, because then I never would have been Queen. It is easier to be a disappointment when no one thinks much of you. I could have been in a Nunnery, devoting my life in prayer and readings, I could have been married, with children of my own by now.
Now I am Queen, and every day is misery, and... and if he had not...
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I... I shall try it, if it comes to me next.
[ If her fear would release her long enough to let her speak at all. ]
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And... thank you for listening, to me.
[ It went unsaid, how much she never admitted to anything that hurt her. ]
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