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Description

Summary:

Connie refuses to get over a mistake she made.

Notes:
so this was written at 1:30 am and was briefly skimmed over so if it doesn't make sense then whoops my b
based off crusher-p's song "would you rather" and yes i'm highly aware i didn't use all the lyrics. just... roll with it. can be found on my ao3

I've been in between a rock and a hard place
I've been biting my tongue to save some face
I should be over this, but I'm not quite there yet
It'll take time and I'll be fine moving ahead
Why was moving on so hard? It nearly seemed impossible - and Connie had learned that not everything was impossible.
She didn’t feel alive anymore. She felt like a part of her had been forcefully ripped out. It didn’t feel right. The young human simply felt numb. She just felt… Empty.
With shaky hands, Connie grabbed the keys to her shabby apartment and pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind. Thinking wasn’t something she enjoyed doing anymore. All she thought about was-
Shivering, Connie closed the door to her bedroom tightly behind her. Grabbing her sword and backpack, she slipped her sandals on. She was determined to get out. She needed to go. Just for a minute.
She opened a door that showed the bleak, empty, and bland hallway of the apartment complex. Swallowing thickly, Connie locked the door and walked away, letting her feet carry her.
Not sure where I'm going, only time will tell us
The fear of never knowing finally bit the dust
A short while later, Connie found herself at the boardwalk, where she had met-
“Stop it Connie,” she said, as if scolding herself. She pushed a tear away with her palm and looked around. The fry shop Steven and Amethyst had convinced her to go to once still stood proud and tall, save for the sign that had fallen off. She continued walking, doing her best not to look at the places as she passed them in fear that if she looked she’d remember things she didn’t want to.
On her way to her destination, she had accidentally caught a glimpse of the old, stone-carved Temple. She had to quickly turn away before she began crying.
The only thing that ran through her head the entire time while she was there was one phrase: It’s all your fault.
And rightfully so, Connie believed. Maybe… Maybe if she had saved him. Maybe if she had saved someone. If she hadn’t failed at her job! If she hadn’t left him alone for one minute-
Stop thinking.
And so she did.
There was a point where I was convinced that suffering made it better
I've never been more wrong
When I hit rock bottom, it's difficult to remember
Why I had to write this song
Connie stood on the sandy beach, her eyes staring with a dead, blank expression at the scenery in front of her. She slid her sandals off and abandoned them in the cool sand. The cold, gritty sand felt familiar beneath her bare feet as she strode towards the ocean, her sword in hand. She felt the waves gently lapping at her feet; yet she ignored them.
She walked further into the sea and held her sword point-down in front of her. Closing her eyes, she heaved the sword down, the blade slicing easily through the sand like a butter knife through fog. Opening her eyes, Connie slowly blinked. Taking a deep breath, she knelt down, ignoring the water and sand that attached itself to the skirt of her dress or her leg.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” she whispered. Her voice drifted off and blended smoothly in with the breeze that drifted through.
“You never failed me, Connie,” the breeze seemed to whisper. Connie froze. “Please. You didn’t fail me. Look at me.”
She closed her eyes once more and suddenly covered her mouth, sobs racking through her body. “I’m-”
She felt the ghost of a hand on her shoulder and she ended up collapsing into the salty water. Connie continued to cry, her hands covering her eyes. She knew it was just her subconscious trying to play a dirty on her.
“Please. Just accept it.”
“No…” Connie whispered, refusing to turn around or open her eyes. “I won’t accept it.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not.”
“Connie. Let me go.” The voice had solidified, causing chills to run down Connie’s spine. Her hands slowly drifted from her eyes which opened. Salty tears still freshly ran down her face and she refused to turn around. “Connie. You have to let me go. Let me move on.”
“No… You’re all I have left!” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“Connie, please. I love you. You know that. Please, let me go…”
“I…” A hand wrapped around Connie’s sword, and before she realized it, Connie had stood up out of the murky blue-green water and had swung the weapon around, trying to hit whatever was behind her. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she only opened them when her sword had struck her target. Connie’s shoulders slouched forward and she fell back into the water once more, staring at the water as fresh tears leaked out of her eyes.
“Thank you,” the wind seemed to whisper. Wiping furiously at her eyes, Connie forced herself to stand up out of the water. Sniffing, she picked her sword up and made sure her backpack was still secured on her shoulders. She slowly trailed out of the water, barely aware she had picked her sandals up and was walking barefoot on the way home.
Even if she’d be plagued once more with nightmares for weeks…
Maybe she could finally move on from the guilt of letting her boyfriend to die.
I'd rather be my own best friend than my worst enemy
I'm one day closer to being who I wanna be

Description

Summary:

Connie refuses to get over a mistake she made.

Notes:
so this was written at 1:30 am and was briefly skimmed over so if it doesn't make sense then whoops my b
based off crusher-p's song "would you rather" and yes i'm highly aware i didn't use all the lyrics. just... roll with it. can be found on my ao3

I've been in between a rock and a hard place
I've been biting my tongue to save some face
I should be over this, but I'm not quite there yet
It'll take time and I'll be fine moving ahead
Why was moving on so hard? It nearly seemed impossible - and Connie had learned that not everything was impossible.
She didn’t feel alive anymore. She felt like a part of her had been forcefully ripped out. It didn’t feel right. The young human simply felt numb. She just felt… Empty.
With shaky hands, Connie grabbed the keys to her shabby apartment and pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind. Thinking wasn’t something she enjoyed doing anymore. All she thought about was-
Shivering, Connie closed the door to her bedroom tightly behind her. Grabbing her sword and backpack, she slipped her sandals on. She was determined to get out. She needed to go. Just for a minute.
She opened a door that showed the bleak, empty, and bland hallway of the apartment complex. Swallowing thickly, Connie locked the door and walked away, letting her feet carry her.
Not sure where I'm going, only time will tell us
The fear of never knowing finally bit the dust
A short while later, Connie found herself at the boardwalk, where she had met-
“Stop it Connie,” she said, as if scolding herself. She pushed a tear away with her palm and looked around. The fry shop Steven and Amethyst had convinced her to go to once still stood proud and tall, save for the sign that had fallen off. She continued walking, doing her best not to look at the places as she passed them in fear that if she looked she’d remember things she didn’t want to.
On her way to her destination, she had accidentally caught a glimpse of the old, stone-carved Temple. She had to quickly turn away before she began crying.
The only thing that ran through her head the entire time while she was there was one phrase: It’s all your fault.
And rightfully so, Connie believed. Maybe… Maybe if she had saved him. Maybe if she had saved someone. If she hadn’t failed at her job! If she hadn’t left him alone for one minute-
Stop thinking.
And so she did.
There was a point where I was convinced that suffering made it better
I've never been more wrong
When I hit rock bottom, it's difficult to remember
Why I had to write this song
Connie stood on the sandy beach, her eyes staring with a dead, blank expression at the scenery in front of her. She slid her sandals off and abandoned them in the cool sand. The cold, gritty sand felt familiar beneath her bare feet as she strode towards the ocean, her sword in hand. She felt the waves gently lapping at her feet; yet she ignored them.
She walked further into the sea and held her sword point-down in front of her. Closing her eyes, she heaved the sword down, the blade slicing easily through the sand like a butter knife through fog. Opening her eyes, Connie slowly blinked. Taking a deep breath, she knelt down, ignoring the water and sand that attached itself to the skirt of her dress or her leg.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” she whispered. Her voice drifted off and blended smoothly in with the breeze that drifted through.
“You never failed me, Connie,” the breeze seemed to whisper. Connie froze. “Please. You didn’t fail me. Look at me.”
She closed her eyes once more and suddenly covered her mouth, sobs racking through her body. “I’m-”
She felt the ghost of a hand on her shoulder and she ended up collapsing into the salty water. Connie continued to cry, her hands covering her eyes. She knew it was just her subconscious trying to play a dirty on her.
“Please. Just accept it.”
“No…” Connie whispered, refusing to turn around or open her eyes. “I won’t accept it.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not.”
“Connie. Let me go.” The voice had solidified, causing chills to run down Connie’s spine. Her hands slowly drifted from her eyes which opened. Salty tears still freshly ran down her face and she refused to turn around. “Connie. You have to let me go. Let me move on.”
“No… You’re all I have left!” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“Connie, please. I love you. You know that. Please, let me go…”
“I…” A hand wrapped around Connie’s sword, and before she realized it, Connie had stood up out of the murky blue-green water and had swung the weapon around, trying to hit whatever was behind her. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she only opened them when her sword had struck her target. Connie’s shoulders slouched forward and she fell back into the water once more, staring at the water as fresh tears leaked out of her eyes.
“Thank you,” the wind seemed to whisper. Wiping furiously at her eyes, Connie forced herself to stand up out of the water. Sniffing, she picked her sword up and made sure her backpack was still secured on her shoulders. She slowly trailed out of the water, barely aware she had picked her sandals up and was walking barefoot on the way home.
Even if she’d be plagued once more with nightmares for weeks…
Maybe she could finally move on from the guilt of letting her boyfriend to die.
I'd rather be my own best friend than my worst enemy
I'm one day closer to being who I wanna be