He sat, crossed legged, staring hard at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. The blue lines running across it looked ugly, and it tortured him to have to look at them. When before he would have a thousand words running through his mind, now there was nothing. It wasn't that he wasn't happy, far from it. This was the happiest time of his life. He loved the woman he was with, more than he'd ever loved anyone before. When he was with her it felt like the whole world dripped away like candle wax. When he touched her soft hands he felt as good as he did standing on that stage, screaming out agonising lyrics of torment.
But now, despite his happiness, he couldn't write. He couldn't write those lyrics of torment any longer. There was no torment inside of him. Liam could switch it on and off, he envied him for that. He always seemed to be able to write about whatever fantastic and brilliant story came into his mind, with no real personal experiance. Or maybe he had. Maybe he had personal experiance of addiction, lust, murder, through Ben. That's what he'd always worried about him. In case he was living his life for him. But now Ben realized that his life had been nothing to wish for. But he did wish for the words, he just wished for them to come tumbling out, he just wished that they would appear on that sheet of paper and they would be brilliant, but he couldn't. Not any more. He had nothing to sing about, all the times he'd attempted to write before, recently they had just turned into awful uneventful poppy ballads about love. That's not what he was about. He knew what he wanted but he couldn't translate it. The words would come but they wouldn't stick, they wouldn't go down on the paper. They just seemed to fall off. He knew he never wanted to write the songs like he was at the moment, so he would in fear of becoming too lovey dovey put too much pressure on himself to create a masterpiece and would fail. And it would hurt. Every time he saw those words he hated them. And they broke his heart. He broke his own heart.
But there was no reason for him to need to write, at the moment. The Lost had split, and now he was experimenting. Liam had gone his seperate way, and was being highly succsesful. Mike was living in the US, starting up a new band and Ian was doing guitar DVD's. Ben though, was doing nothing. Apart from lazing around all day, spending every minute with Leslie. He was going to propose, he knew it. He wanted to, but he was terrified of rejection. He decided upon leaving it to a special date, to show he meant what he said.
ooc: Just pointless yabbering, felt I needed to stretch my rp legs before doing another behemoth due soon ;)
