Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2014 13:24:12 GMT
TWO ENTHUSIASTIC THUMBS DOWN
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FULL NAME: Catherine Vienna North
NICKNAMES: Cat
AGE: twenty-three
BIRTHDAY: 20-09-1990
CURRENT CITY: Chicago, IL
HOMETOWN: London, UK
EDUCATION: none
OCCUPATION: freelance artist
FACEBOOK NAME: Catherine North
TWITTER HANDLE: n/a
INSTAGRAM: catnorth
TUMBLR URL: catherinenorth.tumblr.com
HEIGHT: 5'7"
WEIGHT: 130 lbs
HAIR COLOR: black
EYE COLOR: blue
FATHER: clarke north, deceased.
MOTHER: carrie-anne north, illustrator
SIBLINGS: n/a
EXTENDED: n/a
PETS: betsy franco, chinchilla____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I'm not a romantic person. I'm not red roses, or kissing in the rain. I'm the F word and I'm distant. I crack my knuckles when I'm uncomfortable, I crack my knuckles often. I'm awkward, and I'm sad, I laugh at things that aren't funny. I'm not Abercrombie, I'm a cut up grey t-shirt, on repeat. I sometimes have days where I lock the door, where my mind is heavy and I can't relate. I'm not lovable, my quirks aren't cute. I have more cons than pros, more bad days than good.
I don't understand how some women shed their independence so easily. To them it feels like nothing, but to me it feels like the world. I see people handing their dignity like it has no worth; drifting from lover to lover, collecting tokens of house keys and phone numbers. I've never craved the embrace of a man, or sought comfort in their approval. I used to think I'd end up in some lonely cabin, caught in the shadows of willow trees, only depending on the flick of my paintbrush.
I say used to, where I think I'll end up is certainly a bit cloudier. It's hard to describe something you've never felt before, I feel as though I'm playing with fire. It's exciting, but oh god, it's terrifying. I'll be on the phone, clinging to every word we exchange, and when the call ends, my heart hurts so much it feels like it's going to burst. I'm paralysed in love, I really am, I don't know how to react. I'm clawing at the air, but it's literally alien. I get anxious, Harry can tell. It becomes overwhelming, and I lock myself in my studio. I don't even paint, I don't do anything. I just sit, and my eyes glaze over, I do nothing. Harry understands, and even if he doesn't, he still holds me tight when I crawl from my state. And what terrifies me most, is how much I need that embrace.
When I was seventeen, and I hit Harry with my car, it wasn't because he broke my heart. I felt completely disrespected, but I never cried. For him it was love at first sight, he's told me so on more than one occasion. For me, it was ten years of tearing down walls, and taking a blow torch to the layer of ice on my heart. Romantic movies nauseous, I near throw up watching the trailer of a Nicolas Sparks film. But when Harry kisses my neck, or tucks me in before he leaves for an early flight.. lifts me up the counter and leans his head into my chest, or does something stupid like walk into the bedroom wearing a Batman mask.. god I just love him so much it makes me sick. Violently ill, I hate myself.
I don't want my stupid, ant-infested cabin in the woods. I really just want one thing, and that's Harry. Don't tell him I said that, he'll never let it go. He's my person, he's everything. Annoying, stubborn, cocky, relentless, funny, charming, loving, generous, he's so persistent it just kills me. .. I've known him all my life, and he still manages to surprise me. He makes me feel life, and pushes me to appreciate myself. I just know without him I'd be rotten, I'd be nothing but this skeleton under dead willow trees.
God, I hate Nicolas Sparks._________________________________________________________________________________________________
ALIAS: ciaraa
AGE: 22
PLAY-BY: ac spec
MEMBER GROUP: chicago
INSPIRATION: vanessa prager
