Adam Monroe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
changehistory) wrote2008-03-27 01:31 pm
changehistory) wrote2008-03-27 01:31 pm
Entry tags:
[Couples] 4.2 -- What would your children look like?
He hasn't officially even asked her to stay, to turn a weekend, a week, a month into something more indefinite. He certainly hasn't suggested that they make it permanent beyond even indefiniteness. So the fact that he's considering the question in the first place, without all of the rest of the foundation laid is likely an issue that should be addressed more than the daydream of what could be, maybe, if he doesn't blow it.
But after so long without any dreams, or dreams only of destruction and desolation, it's almost nice to consider something softer, something more pleasant, something that is a dream of life, not death.
For some reason, he pictures girls. He's never had girls, only boys. But when he thinks of Rachel, when he thinks of the future, he can almost see her. Her mother's bright smile. Blue eyes, like his, though if she had her mother's green ones, he obviously wouldn't care. Just, maybe, it would be nice to have something of his mother, his siblings, there in his child. A reminder. But Rachel's smile. Her nose, not his.
It's very Hallmark card in his head--a fact he won't admit to the therapist, even. A park, on a sunny day. A little girl with strawberry blonde pigtails--a mingling of both of them there in her hair. She flashes Rachel's smile with mischief in his eyes and...He likes to think of carousels and swings.
And ducks. They'd have a picnic by the water and toss the leftover bread to the ducks. And maybe she would chase the pigeons, or geese, or whatever other birds were flocked around, giggling and running as fast as her little legs could carry her, while the two of them watch her, stretched out on a blanket on the grass. Sometimes there's more than one, or he likes to think of how beautiful Rachel would look, pregnant, glowing. He can almost see it, almost hear the laughter, the softly murmured conversations, the tiny bundle and the first smile...
And then he shakes back to reality and thinks that maybe he should ask if she'd consider moving to San Francisco at all, first.
And wonders, ruefully, what those who know what he'd tried to do just months before would think if they were close enough to read his mind now.
But after so long without any dreams, or dreams only of destruction and desolation, it's almost nice to consider something softer, something more pleasant, something that is a dream of life, not death.
For some reason, he pictures girls. He's never had girls, only boys. But when he thinks of Rachel, when he thinks of the future, he can almost see her. Her mother's bright smile. Blue eyes, like his, though if she had her mother's green ones, he obviously wouldn't care. Just, maybe, it would be nice to have something of his mother, his siblings, there in his child. A reminder. But Rachel's smile. Her nose, not his.
It's very Hallmark card in his head--a fact he won't admit to the therapist, even. A park, on a sunny day. A little girl with strawberry blonde pigtails--a mingling of both of them there in her hair. She flashes Rachel's smile with mischief in his eyes and...He likes to think of carousels and swings.
And ducks. They'd have a picnic by the water and toss the leftover bread to the ducks. And maybe she would chase the pigeons, or geese, or whatever other birds were flocked around, giggling and running as fast as her little legs could carry her, while the two of them watch her, stretched out on a blanket on the grass. Sometimes there's more than one, or he likes to think of how beautiful Rachel would look, pregnant, glowing. He can almost see it, almost hear the laughter, the softly murmured conversations, the tiny bundle and the first smile...
And then he shakes back to reality and thinks that maybe he should ask if she'd consider moving to San Francisco at all, first.
And wonders, ruefully, what those who know what he'd tried to do just months before would think if they were close enough to read his mind now.