revolutionary rebel

20 January 1980, 00:18

Yeah, but it’s also going to be brilliantly fun. (And I was kidding about the wardrobe, for the record.)

Hope, and something to hope for. Reasons to laugh, and sometimes laughter without any reason at all. The best sex. The knowledge that we have a true partnership, and you’re always looking out for me. Lots of things. I could keep going, but I think I’d rather tell you some more tomorrow.

Exactly. If there are things to write about, then we have to do it, not just let it fester. (I laughed.)

-Gideon

P.S. That you didn’t like how it felt when we changed how we signed off. I’m glad you said something about it. I’m glad we talked about it and made it better.

P.P.S. Come over. Please.

19 January 1980, 23:43

As in on a rink or some pond somewhere? I ask so I can make the proper arrangements, and also prepare the right wardrobe.

You do make me want to be better. I promise, you do. But even if you didn’t, you would still be the love of my life, because even if you don’t give me exactly all the things I give you, you give me so much that no one else could, and I wouldn’t want them to.

Thank you.

I guess it is. It’s just that it’s okay if we have to keep writing about some things. That’s all.

-Gideon

P.S. No, the thing about the names. And I don’t know what boys do, I only know what I do, and I’d much rather whisper it in your ear than write it out.

20 January, 1980, 12: 07 A.M.

Anywhere. It’s going to be disgustingly adorable when we go round the whole circle holding hands wherever it is.

What else do I give you? Besides fresh knickers. And hot cocoa. And lots of affection and kisses.

As long as we write about them, right? (Ha— right.)

-Marlene

19 January 1980, 18:02

Yes. It really, really helped.

And no, I don’t think you do. Love isn’t something you earn, and I don’t love you because you passed some arbitrary test or something, I just love you. And if that’s good enough for me, and it’s good enough for you (is it good enough for you?) then nobody else ought to care what it looks like.

Also, I’m fairly certain her name isn’t Reportunzy, but I don’t know what it actually is. Some plant, I think, because in the beginning her mum was making her dad steal it from the witch only the witch caught him and said he could have the plant if she got the child and she named not-Reportunzy after it.

That’s one kind. And another is being able to do this all in person. Maybe there are some things we’ll always need letters for. But I hope that we don’t have to rely on them so heavily someday.

-Gideon

P.S. I’m glad you thought of it.

19 January, 1980, 9: 13 PM

I want to go ice skating this weekend, please.

No, not the love. But the title. The love-of-your-life should be someone who deserves it. And I want to earn it by giving you all the love you’ve given me. I know it’s not a competition, or a measurable thing. But I still want to

I don’t know. If you make me want to be better, I should be able to do that for you, too. That’s important to me. Sticking together and all the building up, that’s important. And I don’t think I qualify otherwise.

Rosebush, may Oh. No, that’s Citizen Cane. I don’t know. I’ll look it up.

I don’t think so. We’ll be able to do this one day. That’s part of the process, isn’t it? Transitioning into being able to listen to each other when we’re saying these things, and not reading and writing them? We’ll get there. It takes time. That’s all.

-Marlene

19 January 1980, 7:35

You might think hearing that so many times gets old. It doesn’t. And I’m sure you know, I just wanted to remind you.

I don’t remember what you said that day or what I said, only that it felt so awful that I didn’t believe it was real even as you walked away. And I really don’t like thinking about you not being here. You have thanked me, though— maybe not in the traditional way, but then again it’s not exactly a traditional thing— what I’m trying to say is you’ve held my hand for a very long time, sometimes even without realising it, and that’s all the thanks I could ever hope for. You have been there for me in every possible way, just like I hope that I have for you. Because even if it isn’t just one person, it’s a damn good thing, knowing you do have that one. So thank you, Marlene, for being my one in so many ways I couldn’t begin to count them all.

But most importantly, I’m really glad you told me all that, even though I really don’t know what to say. If I was there I’d have grabbed your hand long ago, but I’m not, and I think maybe this is one of those things that wouldn’t have happened if I’d been able to grab your hand from the start. (I’m sorry about the what-if). Sometimes I just can’t separate the practicalities from the idea of it all, and I can’t just change things in a snap. But I am trying to want those architects; to want to tell them. Because for me, wanting the ides is one thing, but the reality that can feel cold and harsh in comparison, that’s so much more difficult to want. But when you do, that’s how you know it’s important. Something you absolutely have to do, and to keep fighting for, no matter what challenges arise.

I can think of loads more places I could say it that would be just as sexy. But the in the ear, you’re right. It was designed for close quarters delivery.

I love you, and I agree completely. As strong as we can possibly be.

-Gideon

P.S. I promise, I will never use it against you. It will never be a punishment.

P.P.S. You are trouble. And I love you for it.

19 January, 1980, 5:42 P.M.

Did it really help?

I have to make it look like I earned that whole love-of-your-life thing at least, don’t I? Anyway, I think it’s only cold when you’re looking at it, or when you first jump in. It’s like when you go in the lake, and it’s cold at first, and freezes everything, and then it’s warm after a bit because you’ve gotten used to it. It doesn’t have to be a snap. It can be in steps. You just have to remember there’s something at the end of them. The steps, I mean. Something at the bottom of the tower worth coming down the stairs for, Reportunzy (I think that’s it, the muggle princess with the hair).

Strong enough for you to be able to live and in person and whispering all kinds of things into my ear, huh?

-Marlene

P.S. I promise the same. Always and forever.

18 January 1980, 20:12

I’m glad that I do. Really, really, glad. And I love you so fucking much, mad one.

You’re presenting a pretty good argument already, for the record. You’ve nearly got me sold on the idea of it, and from there the practicalities

Well, the practicalities of anything are always so much more of a challenge, but I want to work these out. The practicalities of architects. Of asking for help or accepting it when it’s offered, and recognising those times and not feeling extra shitty for it.

I really don’t think anything would be enough unless we were actually living together or something, and maybe not even then—I don’t really see Fabian as much as I’d like, even with all the dinners we have together and morning bathroom rushes. Maybe that’s what’s so intoxicating, that we can’t get enough; we never get tired of each other’s company.

And even though I would’ve liked to see you at lunch today, I think I’m glad you didn’t come find me. Because you’re right, this is going pretty smashing so far, and that’s not something to toss aside for easy conversation. This isn’t necessarily easy, but it is important and good and I’m glad we’re doing it.

That had better be a promise. About the nakedness next time.

-Gideon

P.S. I was all set to argue the point some more, but you’re right, we do have to talk, and I want to, it’s not something I have anything to argue against. We have to get in the habit of spelling things out when we can so that when we can’t we can get at least halfway there. And I don’t think signing off is the only way to illustrate emotions, nor do I want it to be. I guess I just want the option to let my emotions influence that. I promise, I’m gonna tell you what I’m feeling, and try to tell you why. But I think that I want that, too, even if it’s only for a little while.

P.P.S. We’re gonna test that theory one day. I think it just might be on the mark.

P.P.P.S. Can we be better about it? Or try to, anyway? Even if it feels like whinging or ridiculous or boring or even all the above? Like the fact that I’m still doing the same shit and we really didn’t take enough days for holidays to warrant this kind of delay and so something has got to be wrong with my progress.

P.P.P.P.S. Is that a challenge?

19 January, 1980, 1:29 A.M.

I know you do. I love you, Gideon.

I want you to know how badly I wanted you out of my life when we broke up. I think you need to understand that and see, and that maybe it will help with everything that’s been going on that you can’t figure out. Because that’s what I wanted. You were in the way. Of what, I don’t know, and I don’t really care now, but we weren’t anything that I wanted, and I wanted you gone.

And then we did break up and I felt guilty. I felt so guilty. And angry. And so much had happened. Not just for us, but with everything, and my brother, and Frank, and Mason even, and I was tired. And I felt used and different and being with you while we weren’t physically together was hard. It was one more relationship that I was so convinced was going to fail and get fucked up that I didn’t want to let it get that far, I think. And that’s why it happened so easily. It was like whatever you said that day gave me an excuse. An out.

I hate myself for it sometimes. For pushing you out. For pushing everyone out, everyone who tried to be there when all I wanted was to be angry and cold and mean. Things with Frank were weird and different, and that scared me. I didn’t talk to Mason at all while he was in Spain. He didn’t even send me a card on my birthday. And you

I’m so glad. I’m so glad that I didn’t let all that angry, mean stuff get in the way of everything. I’m so glad I turned around and listened to that feeling in my gut and stuck with you. I’m so glad that I fixed things with Mason and Frank and everybody and everything else that I was stupid about. Because if I hadn’t done that, if I hadn’t let all of you in, even when it felt weird and wrong and hopeless and cold, I don’t know if I’d still be here. And I wouldn’t have you, and I’d be lost, I think. I’ve never properly thanked you, I don’t think, for all of the stuff you’ve held my hand through. And I don’t know if I ever can because I don’t think there are any words in any of your dictionaries that can do it justice or make up for all of that. Sometimes, it felt like it was just you. And it wasn’t. It’s never as few people as you think it is. There’s always more.

But I think the point I’m trying to make is that those architects are so goddamn important. And practicalities are nothing, really, with people you love, and who love you, even if you don’t think they do for a cold, mean minute. I always want to be your architect. And I know plenty of other people who would be, too. You just have to decide to let us be and let us know that’s what you want.

Anyway, I like it when you say intoxicating. It’s intoxic sexy. That’s the kind of word that you’re supposed to whisper in my ear when I get out of a steamy shower or something, I think.

I’m glad, too. I think it’s important that we keep talking and don’t interrupt. It’s like before, when we stopped with the sex because it makes things seem better than they are. And not that this isn’t better than it had been, because it is. Infinitely, even. But just because they’re better than they have been doesn’t mean they’re at their best and I don’t want us to think they are their best until they are. I want to keep working through this. I want us to be as strong as we have the potential to be. And I don’t think we can do that if we keep indulging ourselves and getting distracted from the working aspect of it.

That being said, I’ll see what I can do.

-Marlene

P.S. I want you to have control over your identity, too. I just want to be in the loop with the why sometimes. And I don’t want it used against me. And I know sometimes you’re not going to want to explain, and I get that. It’s like the things I want to keep to myself sometimes. Like the thing with the bint. I don’t know why. But I would never use it against you, like a bargaining chip or something. And not that it’s ever what you’ve meant to do, but sometimes it feels that way. Like it’s a punishment. And that’s the part I want to get rid of.

P.S.S. I think so, too.

P.S.S.S. Yeah, we can. I want you to know what I’m doing, anyway, mostly. At least with that. That’s not one of the special, personal secrets I want to keep, I mean. I’ll save that for snogging Mary and— I don’t know what else, actually.

P.S.S.S.S. No. It’s just informative. I’ll show you when I see you next. Promise.

18 January 1980, 02:23

I know you’re almost certainly asleep already, and I’m sorry if this wakes you. I’ve told Dickie to be quiet, but I don’t know how reliable he is lately. I don’t know why I’m still awake, except that

I guess I’m too impatient. I’ve gotten used to knowing straight away and I’ve forgotten how to wait.

I really make you want to be your best self? Really and truly?

Nothing could ruin things between us. Not really. Not when you love me as much as you and I’m so in love with you that I’m never going to stop loving you. And I know you don’t want to change me. I know you want to help, even if it’s difficult to remember in the moment.

And I think you have a point, about the foundation. I need be strong so I can help the people I want to help and fight the fight I need to fight. I’m not sold on the team of architects, but I think I’m willing to be persuaded.

Forgetting is how I ended up where I am, I think. Trying to forget and pushing it down until it didn’t make sense when it came bubbling back up.

That would defeat the purpose of this whole arrangement, wouldn’t it?

-Gideon

P.S. You can call me anything you want, you know. Well, except pretty boy. I draw the line there. But in all seriousness, I haven’t forgotten that I’ve only one essence. And you might be right, I could be giving the names thing too much weight. It’s just that

I don’t like that I had to clarify I wasn’t angry because I wanted to change how I signed off. But I don’t that it’s conditional on “bending to each other’s every will”. It might be a bad habit, I don’t know, but it’s important to me that you get a lot more of me than most people. And that when I need to draw back, I can, because I know you’re going to be there when I’m ready to come back. Like this, the writing letters, having space. It’s important, and I don’t want to trade it for anything, but it’s not the same as you on my lap and my arms around your waist. The changing when angry thing is petty, I agree, but it also illustrates things that you might not be able to articulate, and I hate the way it feels to sign of normally when I don’t feel normal. Besides, normal is overrated.

P.P.S. We’ve officially gone in circles. I get the concept, Marlene, I just didn’t know there was such a thing as an amortentia candle. And I’m struggling to understand the practicalities of the object, as in how is it made? How does it work? But I don’t know if you’re in my amortentia or not, I haven’t smelled it since sixth year. I assume you are, I just don’t know.

P.P.P.S. I’m sorry I’ve been shitty at telling you things about work.

P.P.P.P.S. And I know just how you’d be looking at me if you said that to my face.

18 January, 1980, 6:42 P.M.

You really do. Even when I forget to show it or don’t get to my best right away. You make me want to try harder and do better the next go. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to be better. Us to be better, too.

I love you, I love you, I love you, blitz.

Good. Because I think you need to be persuaded. Because you need architects. I wouldn’t be where I am now after all the things that have happened if I didn’t have a bunch of architects to build me up the whole time through. And after. Even on the days where I was angry and didn’t know why or have a good reason. I still have those, sometimes. The people help. You just have to let them. And they usually take it as flattery when you ask.

I still get you three times a month, don’t I? Or five? Something. It doesn’t feel like enough. I didn’t try to find you on lunch today because I think this is going well. We’re talking about important things, and really talking. And it’s not that I don’t want to see you. But it’s better if me and you figure this out first, I think.

I miss you, though, still. And next time, there will be nakedness.

-Marlene

P.S. I don’t like that you had to, either. That’s my point. And if you think that’s the only way to illustrate that you’re angry about something, then maybe that’s our problem. That we’d rather make grand gestures and assume the other already knows the code or can read our mind if they don’t. That’s not fair. You have to tell me when you’re angry with me, and you have to tell me why, so I can understand it and fix it and not do it again. Just like when you say something and it rubs me the wrong way, and I tell you so you can fix it and not rub me the wrong way anymore. I just don’t want to use that anymore. Use whatever feels normal, fine. Take space, fine. But we can’t dangle pieces of ourselves out at each other like carrots and rabbits and just expect each other to get the point by taking parts away for petty reasons instead of reasons like I need space. We have to talk to each other, Gideon. You can articulate anything, eventually, if you try.

P.S.S. I have a very big, grand suspicion that I’m the whole damn thing.

P.S.S.S. I’m sorry I have, too.

16 January 1980, 21:45

It’s a lot to reconcile, that bad changes for me don’t change how you feel. I guess, because, sometimes it feels like you fell in love with one version of me, when I was doing certain things and acting certain ways. I know it’s not true, but sometimes it feels like it is. And when it does, knowing that you don’t think I’ve changed for the better in a particular respect or another, it’s like a double dose of doubt. Because if the things you love about me are gone, what’s left? And like I said, it’s only sometimes, and usually I know it’s irrational to begin with, but as you’ve so wisely told me, it doesn’t matter that it’s irrational, I feel it, and that matters.

And sometimes it scares me, asking for help, or trying to make myself whole when there is so much fractured and shattered already. Like it’s selfish when there are more important things, or like maybe I’m not meant to be whole at all. Not just because of the war, but because if I can’t do it myself then something’s wrong, or missing, or the premise is flawed.

Thank you, for saying that. As soon as I read it, it felt like a reminder, which all the best truths do, but I think it was one I really did need to hear.

You are not a bad leader. But I don’t think we’re a group who really wants any one leader aside from Dumbledore. He’s the common thread, isn’t he? The one person we all trust implicitly; the reason we’re there in the first place. I mean, I agree, people aren’t really stepping up to take charge of the things they care about, but you still like leading the charge more than anyone else there, I think.

You in your flat and me, naked in mine helps you how, exactly? I’m curious, here, have you got something in my room I should be worried about?

I don’t know how to stop letting it, though. I believe you, that there’s a way, I just don’t know it.

-Gideon

P.S. I think what I was trying to say is that ‘Gid’ feels much more carefree and innocent than ‘Gideon’ does and maybe I’ve been clinging to signing off like that because I was struggling with all the ways I’ve changed, and the fact that a lot of them don’t feel that great. But there are some things I don’t have control of, and some things that can’t go back, and maybe I’m more Gideon now. Does that clarify at all? (Is it making sense backwards?)

P.P.S. Of course I got my N.E.W.T., I know what amortentia is and the whole smell thing. I’m just confused about the candle piece.

P.P.P.S. You didn’t know? I’m on level seven. And I’ve picked my field and I’m supposed to have a mentor assigned but I haven’t, I’m just working out of the Ministry still and it feels like something’s wrong.

P.P.P.P.S. I love you, McSunshine. And your S’s.

17 January, 1980, 10:49 P.M.

You’re the same you. You still make me want to be my best self. I could never not love you, even if things are hard, and even if something happened to ruin things between us. Which it won’t. I can’t not love you. I’ll never want anyone the way I want you. I’ll always want the best for you and always want to help you get it. That doesn’t mean changing you, that doesn’t mean not letting you grow however you have to grow. It’s just trying to help

I really love you. But I know what you mean, about the feelings. You can feel what you feel. And you can’t take care of the bigger things until you take care of yourself. That’s not selfish. The foundation can’t be called selfish for making itself stronger for everything else. And the foundation can’t make itself better. It needs a staff of architects to make it all better.

I think I’m going to make a very vegetarian meal and forget about all the other dinner parties until I can’t.

I miss your whole body. You could just come over and we could be naked together.

Can you figure out how it started?

-Marlene

P.S. I think you’re forgetting that you have a core and an essence. That no matter what things change, your heart is still the same heart it’s always been. And I’ll call you whatever you want and let you sign off however you want, but I think you’re making it too important. Your name is your name. And we should stop letting ourselves use our moods to dictate our identities and vice versa and stop signing differently just because we’re angry and expect each other to know that just because it’s a different name. That irritates me. And we should stop taking parts of ourselves away from each other like they’re only accessible when we’re bending to each other’s every will and then we have to explain we’re not mad. That’s stupid. I’m taking that away.

P.S.S. An amortentia candle. You can burn it and the whole room will smell like me. Aren’t I in your amortentia?

P.S.S.S. I wish I would have known that earlier. I didn’t know you’d picked a field either.

16 January 1980, 16:34

I’m sorry I made you feel like that, too. I know how shitty it is, and just how easy it is to act on that feeling. But I’m still sorry that it changed how I acted, because I like talking to you. You’re one of my favourite people to talk to. And I don’t want to ruin my favourite things or miss out on opportunities to experience them. No more than I want to be scared when it comes to you. Honestly, it scares me that you were scared, which is probably how this whole thing started.

You have, but you’ve mainly led teams. Look at duelling club– you were in charge, leading and directing and telling people what’s what. And maybe that’s what’s so difficult about those dinner parties, because you’re trying to lead, but it doesn’t always work. (Though I think it’s worth it when it does.)

Well, matters of the heart, especially concerning you, feel important. And purposefully not telling you important things, that feels dishonest to me.

You think me sitting starkers in my room would help me I can’t even begin on the armour metaphor with the rest of that sentence. It doesn’t matter– what does, is how do I force myself to be vulnerable? Isn’t that sort of thing ruined by the effort?

-Gideon

P.S. I’m changing the order of the post scripts because I wanted you to know straight away that I’m not signing like that because of anything you said. I just think maybe I feel more like Gideon right now. And even if my ears are blocked and I’m not hearing people call me Gid, I’m not sure that it’s something I want to utilise right now for myself.

P.P.S. Aren’t love potions illegal to use? Are there really love potion candles?

P.P.P.S. From when I started. The sixth.

P.P.P.P.S. I’m very glad you’re writing backwards again.

16 January, 1980, 7:57 P.M.

I don’t want you to think that I won’t love you if you change. I don’t want you to think that when I yell or get confused or get angry about something like I’ve been doing, it is because I’m scared. Not of change by itself, but of it being a bad change. Of it being bad for you. That’s what scares me. That you’re going to tear yourself apart over everything instead of letting us help you put yourself back together. And maybe I need to find a different way to say them, but I only say them because I care and because I worry about you. Promise. And it’s important to me that you know that.

Why doesn’t it always work? Is it because I’m a bad leader, or because I’m not supposed to be leading all the time? And if I don’t lead, then who’s going to? Show me someone who will step up, and I’ll back down. Maybe.

It would help me. No, it’s not. You’re conscious of it, I think. So it bristles up. And you can feel it bristling up and you let it. Stop letting it. And I didn’t think we were talking about not telling each other. I thought we meant— I don’t know what we meant now actually.

-Marlene

P.S. I don’t know what to say. Mostly because I don’t know what that means. Should I mention I’m reading backwards, too?

P.S.S. They smell good. Like your amortentia. Didn’t you get your N.E.W.T. in potions?

P.S.S.S. You’re not training in the Ministry, are you? How can you have been training in the Ministry without me knowing?

16 January 1980, 14:26

Because it’s on purpose. I like the reminder that I have things to say. I keep feeling terse and silent lately, and nowhere near the rambling can talk about anything I used to be. And I guess directness is good, but knowing this, it’s like having a piece of me put back from where I thought it was missing.

Well, I do want to hear about it, but not if it’s gonna bore you to tell. I’m sorry about the team thing. And that you didn’t pass.

I don’t know if I do. I mean, I get not wanting any more heart acrobatics than we possibly need, but it feels a little deceptive. A little like lying. A white lie, but a dishonest just the same.

So now I’ve got to take off my armour, huh?

-Gid

P.S. No, it’s just that I notice it less. When you’re right there I can’t possibly forget about it, and it’s very vibrant and real.

P.P.S. I hope not. It’s work. I was supposed to train out of the Ministry about a month.

P.P.P.S. It feels weird signing ‘Gid’ and I don’t know why. Probably because you haven’t called me that in a long time. Nobody has, actually.

P.P.P.P.S. Did you write that one backwards?

16 January, 1980, 2:48 P.M.

I miss you talking to me. I like when you have things to say. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t say them in the first place. I’m sorry we’ve both not just felt like that, but acted on it. Or didn’t act, really. I let myself be scared of talking to you, and that’s just as wrong as whatever happened to make me feel that way in the first place, I think.

Mostly it’s on theory at first. I mean, I was practicing still, but my exam was mostly theoretical. The first one, at least. This one was more about the team. Which is bullshit. I’ve worked in a team before, haven’t I?

What’s dishonest about it?

Yeah, you do. Get naked. Metaphorically naked. Or really naked, too, if it helps.

-Marlene

P.S. I’m going to get you one of those love potion candles so you can smell me all the time, even when I’m away.

P.S.S. When?

P.S.S.S. I bet they have and you just didn’t listen. The armour got your ears, too.

16 January 1980, 13:03

I’m glad you did tell me. And I miss you, too.

What was this exam even in? Because I can’t imagine you looking like a beginner, especially if you thought you were ready to take it six months early. You didn’t ever tell me about all the steps of training, did you? Because I’m trying to remember if you did, and anything you might’ve said about it, and I’m coming up blank, and if you did and I just forgot, I’m sorry. It wasn’t because it’s not important.

My heart does funny things when you talk about crying like that, so I think it would be more accurate to say that no one sees anyone else getting flustered. And the flustered can, potentially, get edited out.

But you’re wrong, if we were heartless, there wouldn’t be a point to in person. It wouldn’t matter. And I’m struggling enough with the heartless thing as it is, I think Fabian’s half-convinced I’ve lost mine already. Which is what comes when you bottle things up, I guess, but it never seems to go any better when I say them out loud.

-Gid

P.S. I especially miss the way your hair smells when your lips are on my neck and the way your voice sounds when something’s important.

P.P.S. How long is a month? I’m not talking a calendar, I mean if someone says about a month, how long is that?

16 January, 1980, 2:12 P.M.

I like this. I feel better already. It’s easy this way. Missing you because I’m not away from you because we’re avoiding each other or something.

Because no one knows how to follow me Because I’m not ready to work on a team yet. I don’t know if I did. It’s not that interesting, really. Unless you want to hear about it.

Yeah, I like that. Then your heart doesn’t have to do funny things. My heart does funny things thinking about yours doing funny things over me crying.

I don’t think you’re heartless. I think maybe what happened is you have too much of it, and it’s extra vulnerable. That’s not good when you’re vulnerable. So your body decided to give you armor to put around it. Except it makes it hard for everything else to get in.

-Marlene

P.S. Does it smell different when my lips are in other places?