movies can be so raw, so real it hurts

i cried, wilting like a flower, when richie slit his wrists, vertically, and watched the blood fill the sink because he loved his sister when he shouldn't have. snot was trying on my face when he kissed margot. when she kissed back i bloomed like spring.

my reaction was more subdued when frank had done the exact same thing, because frank had done this because he didn't like himslef. and that i could relate to. things are less shocking when they have happened to you before. the pain was there though, and my heart fell into something thick and heavy.

i felt phantom pain in the joint of my elbow when harry had his arm - the same terrifyingly pale shade of my own - amputated, the limb purple and angry against his flesh from needles used by others. he cried and screamed as nurses held him.

i shook as tyrone went through withdrawal, sweating profusely, whimpering for the mother he had let down.

i found it hard to breathe when mia started to convulse, her nose dripping red, and her mouth foaming like newly opened champagne. the belt holding my lungs suddenly snapped when vince stabbed her with a dose of epinephrine straight to the heart. i noticed our breath rushed back into our bodies simultaneously.

i have felt more love for fictional people than anyone else, and i do not know why. i think it is because they are so raw, and i think this is because they are not afraid of who they are, because they are unaware anyone is watching.