[demo ima wa ore ni taisetsu na mono o shiteite, omae ni akiramete tamaru ka.]

[thunderedge]

sakurabatou: ...I'm not quite sure where this came from?
[12-15-06 10:06 am] Edited for tense consistency and clarity and crap like that. It's stream-of-consciousness but I use wayyy too may "and"s and "but"s and "because"s. And "..."s. >.>





I remember when I told her I was afraid.

Maybe what I was really afraid of was that fear never leaving me, the fear of losing you. Wanting so badly to say it, wanting that relief and release. What did I fear? That if I voiced it, even that wouldn’t mean anything? That it wasn’t something mere words could conquer?

If that was true, I was right.

But maybe it’s better that way. People can’t live on words alone. What I needed wasn’t just words.

Your smile when I smiled—that meant something. Your hand on my shoulder, the rare time you laughed when I tried to make lunch and made a mess of the kitchen instead. Standing with our backs to the same door, knowing you were there. Your blood on my hands but knowing you were alive—

Knowing you had been ready to give your life for me and hating that part of you, hating that you would leave me to be saved, alone. Hating myself because I’m such a damn hypocrite, because I’m the same. Because we’re both so selfish but I don’t care because no matter how much I promise to stay, if the time came, I would die so you wouldn’t have to. Accepting that I’d break you because I’m so afraid of letting you break me.

No one wants to be left behind.

You see, it’s easier to feel guilty because then you don’t have to face the truth. It’s easier to blame yourself than accept the inevitable, that there was nothing you could have done. I know that; maybe I always have. And part of me faced it and forgave myself.

But the other part of me is the part that wakes up sometimes in the night, feeling her blood on my—it’s warm, but my hands are cold, cold and he’s laughing at me and she’s trying to smile but I can’t hear what she’s saying and I—

I’m still afraid. She’s here now but the memories didn’t leave. I’m afraid of having to feel that way again. That’s why I’ll never learn. That’s why I can’t stop running.

I never wanted you to see that side of me, so I fooled myself into thinking I could hide it. I wanted to stay as I was in your memory: the promise I made all those years ago, when we were kids. Sitting on the roof in our bare feet, letting the wind blow as it would. You didn’t see me when I gave up, the day the chaos came. You never knew my weakness; you were always the one who cried. I got into fights and let myself get hit and let myself think you did the crying for both of us.

Then when I came back it was as if the years had traded our places. You saw right through me, but I—I didn’t know how to reach you anymore. It wasn’t you who closed yourself off. I turned away from you. I turned away from everyone, convinced I could never protect anyone or make up for my mistakes. It took too much for me to realize what I was giving up. All along you were waiting and all I had to do was hold out my hand...

But even when I did, it wasn’t as if everything was fixed. Nothing is that simple. This whole time we’ve had to fight our way forward, as if fate needs us to prove again and again that our wills are enough to hold us together. Yet now that I know what’s precious to me, I don’t think I could ever give up on you. Even when you looked at me and no longer knew my name. No matter how many times I’ve been torn apart there’s always someone here to put me back together again. I’ve come too far to let all that effort be for nothing.

Is that what it was? Why I was able to catch up to you? Afraid of being hurt, yet I couldn’t help reaching for you, and you took my hand.

You always came to find me. I thought I was bringing you back, but you were the one who brought me back.

Even as I’m living now I know I’ll lose everything someday. I still don’t know if I’m all right with that. But life would mean nothing if we didn’t have to struggle or feel pain. Though that may not make it easier, I...I want to keep going, no matter how hard it gets. As long as you’re here, someday I’ll be able to cry without it meaning I’ve given up.

Maybe that’ll make it easier to smile.

People can’t live on just words?

But there’s no other way I can tell you this. All these words in my mind and all I can manage to voice are a few, here and there. Can I really depend on a smile to say the rest? Of all the things I’m afraid of—I guess it’s impossible, even with words, to really know what someone else is thinking.

Of all the things I’m afraid of—sometimes, I still can’t look you straight in the eyes.

Of all the things...

Am I to you what you are to me?








I never really wanted you to see
the screwed up side of me that I keep
locked inside of me so deep
it always seems to get to me

I never really wanted you to go
so many a thing you should have known
I guess for me there's just no hope
I never meant to be so cold