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This?
“This? This shit? It doesn’t make you who you are. You have to BE someone first!”
Greta gritted her teeth, placing all of her energy into swallowing the biting words trying to escape her lips. She probably looked constipated.
Her sister just continued to stare at her expectantly. Her [claws] hands curled around her hips. Her shaggy, blonde hair hung limply just above her shoulders. Her head was cocked at a demeaning angle.
The worst part was, Cleo almost definitely thought that she was being helpful. That once Greta got over this ‘snit’, she should drop to her knees and thank her older sister for this astute observation.
No fucking shit, Greta’s job wasn’t what made her a human! She was fucking aware! Painfully so!
What Cleo, in all her assumed wisdom, failed to acknowledge, was the broken human her younger sister was outside of the working week. God, YEARS of therapy. YEARS of Greta being complimented by every mental health professional she’d ever worked with, on her ‘emotional intelligence.’ YEARS of being painfully aware of every single toxic and unhealthy behaviour she displayed in her life… Greta knew exactly who she was as a human! She was an insecure, mentally fucked, over-achieving person who pushed or scared away anyone who dared to get close! She was SO aware of who she was as a human, that she turned to vices and throwing herself into her career to just COPE with having to live every single fucking day as Greta Kolley.
…Just as fast as the all-consuming rage had risen, Greta felt it all fall away into lonely despair. She knew Cleo was just trying to help. The despair was now being paired with a growing sense of guilt as she looked closer at her older sister’s face and recognised the utter exhaustion and desperation that came with feeling responsible for such a basketcase as herself.
Greta curled her shoulders inwards in shame as Cleo sighed.
“Greta, I - “ her sister sighed again. “I just, I watch you throw yourself into your work. You talk about nothing but it Monday through Friday. And then I watch as you fall apart on the weekends, like you’ve stopped trying to exist, and pull yourself back together just in time for Monday morning…”
Holy shit, Cleo looked on the verge of tears. Guilt ate away even larger bites of Greta’s insides. Now she’d made her older sister cry. Great.
“It’s not healthy, Greta!”
Understatement of the century.
“It’s not sustainable! And you don’t deserve to throw your life away...
Greta gritted her teeth, placing all of her energy into swallowing the biting words trying to escape her lips. She probably looked constipated.
Her sister just continued to stare at her expectantly. Her [claws] hands curled around her hips. Her shaggy, blonde hair hung limply just above her shoulders. Her head was cocked at a demeaning angle.
The worst part was, Cleo almost definitely thought that she was being helpful. That once Greta got over this ‘snit’, she should drop to her knees and thank her older sister for this astute observation.
No fucking shit, Greta’s job wasn’t what made her a human! She was fucking aware! Painfully so!
What Cleo, in all her assumed wisdom, failed to acknowledge, was the broken human her younger sister was outside of the working week. God, YEARS of therapy. YEARS of Greta being complimented by every mental health professional she’d ever worked with, on her ‘emotional intelligence.’ YEARS of being painfully aware of every single toxic and unhealthy behaviour she displayed in her life… Greta knew exactly who she was as a human! She was an insecure, mentally fucked, over-achieving person who pushed or scared away anyone who dared to get close! She was SO aware of who she was as a human, that she turned to vices and throwing herself into her career to just COPE with having to live every single fucking day as Greta Kolley.
…Just as fast as the all-consuming rage had risen, Greta felt it all fall away into lonely despair. She knew Cleo was just trying to help. The despair was now being paired with a growing sense of guilt as she looked closer at her older sister’s face and recognised the utter exhaustion and desperation that came with feeling responsible for such a basketcase as herself.
Greta curled her shoulders inwards in shame as Cleo sighed.
“Greta, I - “ her sister sighed again. “I just, I watch you throw yourself into your work. You talk about nothing but it Monday through Friday. And then I watch as you fall apart on the weekends, like you’ve stopped trying to exist, and pull yourself back together just in time for Monday morning…”
Holy shit, Cleo looked on the verge of tears. Guilt ate away even larger bites of Greta’s insides. Now she’d made her older sister cry. Great.
“It’s not healthy, Greta!”
Understatement of the century.
“It’s not sustainable! And you don’t deserve to throw your life away...
