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Post by jason andrew irving on May 30, 2009 11:43:41 GMT -5
In all honesty, Jason felt like shit. He knew what it was like to suffer through a bad breakup, that was what led him to drag himself out of New York and find his way to the barren wasteland he lived in now, but looking back, that seemed so different. Even though it was two years long, there had been no almost-engagement, no accident, no break, no almost-one night stand. He hadn’t caused all of the drama of the relationship; it had just come to an end because they didn’t know how to fight. With Ana, they could fight and then make up…most of the time.
Regardless of how terrible he felt, he knew he had to do something other than just sulk around. It wasn’t good for him and it only made him feel worse as he thought about everything he did wrong. Sighing, he stepped into his closet, picking out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt since it was already hot outside and he hadn’t really been outside of air conditioning for a little while. Maybe if he actually put some effort into himself he’d be able to go out and actually enjoy the nice day. Brushing a hand through his dark curls, he glanced at himself in his mirror and sighed again. He didn’t look healthy, he knew that and he also knew it had to change. It was kind of hard to not lose weight when you weren’t hungry, though.
Sulking down his steps, he went straight to the garage door and picked his keys from the little basket Ana had suggested they keep there along with a pair of sunglasses before he stepped out into his garage and slid a pair of black shoes on his bare feet. Going to his silver car, he sat down and fired it up, listening to the relaxing hum of the sleek vehicle before the radio started playing which he quickly snapped off. Music was a beautiful thing, but not when half of the songs on the radio reminded him of Ana in some way or another.
He knew the roads that would take him to one of the many parks in Salt Lake by heart now since they had been a nice place to be, whether he was playing guitar or going for a run. Now, he hoped they’d be able to bring him out of his slight depression. Maybe if he was in a good enough mood when he left the park, he wouldn’t go to The Port that night. He always thought alcohol was a disgusting thing to get into, but he recently discovered the wonders of it. Even if it was just for a few hours, he could get drunk enough to forget why he was drinking. The next morning was never fun, though, but even sinking down lower than he had been was worth the high he felt with the alcohol in his system. He hated the whole addiction, but he still went, knowing he could have a good time at the bar even without taking the girls he’d dance with home. Even drunk, that was where he drew the line. And yet he knew it was only a matter of time – and alcohol – until he crossed it.
With the thought of avoiding Port O’ Call that night and a splitting headache the next morning, his spirits were slightly lifted as he pulled into the park. Even though it was a nice day and the park was fairly busy, it didn’t take any time for him to find a parking place and get out of the car, the feeling of the sun on his skin improved his mood even more. Maybe getting out was what he needed.
Heading down one of the random paths, his gaze grew cold behind his mirrored sunglasses when he saw a happy couple, giggling and holding hands. So much for his mood steadily getting better. He missed that. Shaking his head, his unruly curls bouncing slightly, he headed down a different path, seeing a few joggers and people with their dogs. At least that was a better sight for a hurting heart to see. Sitting down on a nearby bench he saw, he tilted his face back and let the sun warm it up, letting his brain just shut off and enjoy the moment, something he hadn’t let himself do for quite a while.
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Post by rotod2 on May 30, 2009 12:54:30 GMT -5
- Word Count: 401
- Passive Sentences: 0%
This morning was like all other mornings for Leo. At 6:30am, Vincent’s radio alarm clock blared “Crazy little thing called love,” by Queen. Oh, how he despised that song and the memories it brought to him. He covered his head with a pillow, waiting for his brother to wake up and turn off the painful racket. At least he did not have to listen to the entire song. By mid-lyric, Leo was up out of bed and into the small apartment’s even smaller kitchen.
Michelle – a name that meant so little to him after he left Sweden, the sound of it made him cringe almost as much as the songs suggesting love did. Oh, how horrible he felt every morning since then. Words could not describe the pain masked by anger the woman of his dreams bared him. What was the number one medicine on his list? Alcohol, of course, was his antidote for this poison called heartbreak.
He felt the tug of a hangover hold him back from pure consciousness. Maybe a jog would clear his mind. After fixing Vincent a plate of pancakes and bacon, he returned to his room to change. The night before, Leo sat out a blue and silver active jersey and trail shorts to match the color, his daily jogging outfit. He quickly tossed his pajamas into the dirty clothes pile, put on his clothes and shoes, then left the apartment soon after Vincent.
It was Friday, so he had no classes to go too. Luckily, since a hangover does not mix well with surprise quizzes and exams. He jogged his hangover away, as the sidewalk led him nearer to Washington Park. When was the last time he jogged? Usually he just played some sports or swam his mind to ease. Well, whenever it was, it must have been a while ago.
He jogged into the park, barely breaking a sweat. Leo’s legs wiggled tiredly, and his breath grew heavy. He decided to take a break on the next bench he came too. Someone else sat on that bench, a curly haired man, around his age, with nifty sunglasses. He did not want to seem rude, so while he sat down on the other side of the bench, he said, “Hey.”
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Post by jason andrew irving on May 30, 2009 14:41:25 GMT -5
As the effects of feeling the sun for the first time in a while began to wear off, Jason began to let his thoughts drift to Port O’ Call again, wondering if they’d have a good band that night. The live music they had was almost always good, but it did help that he listened to a variety of music. There were a few groups, of course, that he didn’t exactly care for, but those nights the alcohol just went down faster and before long, he couldn’t place why he didn’t like the band.
Jason felt himself beginning to crave the poison he recently became hooked on and along with the craving, he felt a hatred start to boil up. It wasn’t an abhorrence for the alcohol or a grudge against the club, it was a loathing reserved for himself. It started when he realized when he realized what exactly he was doing when one of his best friends was sitting on top of him, completely topless. That was when his self-spite had started, when he realized he was only using her to try to help his broken heart. Since then, the beer had only fueled that fire. He had always believed drinking was a disgusting habit for as long as he could remember and the accident had only made his belief stronger.
Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he tried to just soak up the sun and forget his problems. Focusing on the warmth against his flesh, he began to feel groggy and actually starting to relax. It felt good to be out of his house in the broad daylight. Breathing deeply, a very small smile crossed his face. He began to doze off, exhausted after nights of near-sleeplessness, the sun lulling him to sleep. Every night when he wasn’t drunk and he’d try to sleep, something would come into his dreams, whether it was Ana in tears, the accident, Port O’ Call or the feeling of Dahlia’s body against his, something would wake him up and make him feel awful.
He was brought to almost-full consciousness when he heard someone nearby say hey, not sure if they were talking to him or not. Behind his sunglasses, he saw a figure sitting beside him, breathing like he had just been running. Seeing no one else around, Jason assumed this other guy was talking to him and forced a smile. “Hey. Nice day for a run?” It sure seemed like it, but he just wasn’t in the mood to run. Actually, the last time he had run, he had pushed himself so far he literally hadn’t been able to go any farther and just collapsed underneath a tree in the park. That had been the night Ana moved out. After the second incident, he had taken the curl-up-and-die or the drink-‘til-you-can’t-see-straight approach to heartbreak. Neither one of them was very enjoyable, but neither was feeling his heart implode into a million pieces.
The forced smile was still on his face as he held out his hand to the man sitting beside him. “Jason,” he said simply, introducing himself. He looked vaguely familiar, like Jason had seen him a few times before. Maybe he was a student at the University or he had been at The Port one of the nights Jason hadn’t been completely trashed. Shrugging inwardly, Jason told himself he was probably making things up. It wouldn’t be the first time he thought he recognized someone and then when he took a closer look he was completely off.
Exhaling a long, slow breath, Jason stretched out his arms, his spine popping multiple times as he did so. Rolling his wrists out of habit, he inhaled sharply, wincing and pulling his left arm towards him, rubbing his wrist. Wrapping his right hand around his aching wrist, he sighed, wondering why exactly he hadn't gone to get it looked at other than the fact it would probably need a cast. And since he fell down the steps more than a few days prior, it might need even more than that and there was no way he was going through yet another surgery. At times he swore Salt Lake was trying to kill him.
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Post by rotod2 on May 30, 2009 19:58:09 GMT -5
- Word Count: 190-ish
- Passive Sentences: 0%
“Yeah,” Leo replied. Most days in Salt Lake were hot and incredibly dry, sometimes hitting over 90 degrees at high noon. Today was different. The sun still brought its warm rays down to the city, yet the puffy clouds lingering above shielded the valley. It truly was a lovely day to exercise, without worrying of heat stroke to say the least.
“Nice to meet you, Jason,” he said resting his back against the wood planks behind them. “My name is Leo.” His genuine Swedish accent was clearly apparent the more he spoke. Leo moved to Salt Lake less than half a month ago, and his accent was already melting away into a western-American accent. If he returned home, he was sure the swedish would believe he came directly from America.
Despite hiding himself behind those glasses, Jason looked oddly familiar to Leo. Did they ever meet before? No, He would remember Jason. Did he go to U of U, Possibility? Maybe, many young adults live in Salt Lake for that exclusive reason. “You look familiar,” He told Jason. “Do you mind me asking, do you go to the University here?”
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Post by jason andrew irving on May 30, 2009 22:47:51 GMT -5
He simply nodded his head at the other man’s simple reply. For this time of day in Salt Lake, the weather did seem cooler than usual and even though there were a few happy-looking clouds in the sky, the sun still shone down but the clouds would sometimes drift in front, creating a little bit of shade for a few moments before floating away again. He almost wished he had worn something a little bit more suitable for running now that he thought about it, but jean shorts and shoes with no support were not comfortable for anything faster than walking.
Nodding yet again, he noted a slight accent in Leo’s voice, wondering where it was from but not wanting to ask. “Nice to meet you, too,” a small smile crossed his face, his eyes on Leo’s face, though it was impossible to tell through his glasses. All Leo would see was his own reflection if he searched for Jason’s eyes. Another plus about the glasses were that they hid the dark circles beneath his eyes from the recent insomnia he had been suffering. Coffee, energy drinks and alcohol of some sort seemed to be what he fueled himself on now.
A quiet laughed slipped from Jason as Leo told him he looked familiar, he found it funny he had been thinking the exact same thing. “I thought I sort of recognized you, too. Yeah, I’m a pre-med student there.” His smile was much more genuine now, though it still wasn’t as full as it would have been two weeks ago. A thoughtful look, though hidden, flooded his eyes and after a brief pause, he added on, “Actually, I guess I’m a med student now. I’ve done my four years of pre-med.” Laughing again, he shook his head. “Not that it matters. I take it you go there, too?”
Salt Lake was a fairly popular place to live for younger adults, thanks to the huge state university there. Compared to the small college where he had gone his first year, the University of Utah was its own city within a city. Though he never lived in a dorm for either school, the size difference for the two different schools was definitely noticeable, too. Everything about the U of U was bigger.
Sighing, the young man rubbed his wrist, slightly irritated with himself. If he wasn’t such a klutz, he wouldn’t have half of the scars he had. Of course, there were at least three that weren’t self-inflicted, as well as a few smaller ones that were hardly noticeable along his arms. Those ones had all been caused by the accident and the ones along his arms from the windshield that had shattered and landed along his body. Be as it was, his wrist could have been prevented if he had learned how to walk down steps when he was two, but because he couldn’t walk down the steps with his eyes blurred with tears, it was aching; he was sure it was broken. Pushing the thoughts about his wrist aside, he crossed his arms across his body, partially covering up the slinky logo on his shirt, tucking his left arm against his body.
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Post by rotod2 on Jun 1, 2009 20:07:00 GMT -5
- Word count: 262
- Passive Sentences: 0%
Even though the university was a large, new world, everyone in and around it always seemed to recognize one another. Leo was not very surprised when Jason said the same. As an urban planner-to-be, and a recent biology-background bachelor, Jason and Leo’s classes were on two different sides of the school. Regardless, they must have passed one another once and again. The school was not that big. “That’s impressive,” He said. He thought about becoming some type of doctor like his father was once, preferably working on a team or with young children; however, construction development was more in his favor. “And yes, I do go there. I am working toward a Masters Degree in Urban Planning. Was there any particular reason why you chose to go to medical school?” By reason, he meant, “what do you plan to be.”
Leo noticed Jason move his wrist uncomfortably yet again. He glanced at the hand before returning to Jason’s sunglasses. Was it broken, or sprained? He figured staring at someone’s wrist for a long while would be a bit rude, so Leo did not have enough time to look. He knew for sure it was a sprain if it only hurt. As for a broken wrist, either a bone would point abnormally, or the badly bruised hand with swollen fingers, would only be able to move a quarter of the way.
((Minus the time I have taken out for being sick, I am in Medical school as well. How weird.))
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 1, 2009 21:23:34 GMT -5
Jason simply shrugged as Leo said his major was impressive. “I grew up around it,” he said honestly, not going into details. He nodded his head as Leo explained what he was going to school for, something that sounded rather complex but that really wouldn’t interest Jason. He laughed a short, quiet laugh when Leo asked him his reasoning for med school. “I love children,” he started out, knowing that was an odd reasoning to be a doctor. “And both of my parents are surgeons, so I always figured I’d go into the medical field and I figured I could just sort of put them together and be a pediatrician.” He definitely had a soft spot for kids; he wanted at least one terribly, but the way his life was going now, he’d just end up babysitting for his neighbors.
Turning the subject away from him, he bounced the question back to Leo. “What are you planning to do with your degree?” Architecture, perhaps? It sounded like it could be fun, if you were interested in it. Most things were like that, though. Behind his glasses, his eyes studied Leo. He seemed like a nice guy, maybe they could be friends. The more he had thought about it, the more he realized most of his friends were girls, something that seemed to cause him trouble and he needed a few more friends of the same sex. Friends he could go out drinking with without worrying about what could come out of it, friends that he could do guy stuff with. Then again, he wasn’t going to push anything; he had only met Leo.
Through his short inspection of the other man, he shifted his wrist, trying to make it feel a little bit better and saw Leo’s gaze drop down to it for a moment. It was a very short glance, but it was long enough for Jason to know he caught his pain. Sighing, he knew it was too late to hide his pain, so instead he moved his hand out, stretching out his fingers. Wiggling them too much hurt, but then again, so did moving it. He remembered how quickly it had discolored when he fell on it, on what had to be the worst day of his life. To his slight surprise, the swelling had gone down a bit though it was far from back to normal. Then again, he was so skinny now the swelling might just look worse than it was. Shrugging, he chuckled, a slightly bitter tone in his laugh. “If you’re not coordinated, stairs aren’t the best thing for you,” he explained, pulling his hand back to his body in a semi-protective manner.
words; 450 wearing; heredriving; Mercedesooc; woahhh. what are the chances of that? haha
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Post by rotod2 on Jun 6, 2009 13:07:11 GMT -5
“Either be a private-sector planner, work to build for parks or campuses for example, or plan transportation routes.” When Leo said it, it did not seem very fun or interesting. Complex city regulations, state laws, and the psychology of the ones using said, replaced that.
Leo grinned. “Yeah, I’ve been there,” He said. “Under different circumstances, I presume.” A few years ago, he was roughhousing near an apartment staircase with a friend. Unfortunately, they both tumbled down two flights of stairs. His friend landed on him, breaking Leo’s arm.
((Sorry, I cannot think of where to go from here.))
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