1.1 --- /dev/null	Thu Jan 01 00:00:00 1970 +0000
     1.2 +++ b/stories/thoughts.txt	Fri Feb 19 06:24:59 2010 -0500
     1.3 @@ -0,0 +1,126 @@
     1.4 +Disclaimer: Me again. I suddenly got in a writing mood, so here it
     1.5 +is! Please note that I do not own any copyrighted items. I hope you
     1.6 +all enjoy it. ~.^ ~~Forever3330~~ ^.~
     1.7 +
     1.8 +Thoughts
     1.9 +By Forever3330
    1.10 +kawaiimotoko@hotmail.com
    1.11 +
    1.12 +	Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Sitting on the sidelines,
    1.13 +holding everything swirling around in me back, building wall upon
    1.14 +wall around my true heart, trying to lock it away, all so that I can
    1.15 +give her, to the best of my ability, what she deserves. Someone who
    1.16 +loves her, who can protect her and her precious heart, who can help
    1.17 +her to shine more brightly then she already does, who can give her a
    1.18 +life. A marriage, a family, a reason to live.
    1.19 +	My treacherous heart is torn in two; I love her! I can protect her!
    1.20 +I can help her shine more brightly! But when it comes to the last, I
    1.21 +stop. Everything simply grows cold and I force a smile, just from
    1.22 +habit, as I feel the familiar despair and reason wash over me. I
    1.23 +can’t give her a life. Not a marriage, not a family. And how, how
    1.24 +could I possibly give her a reason to live, when I couldn’t do those
    1.25 +simple things?
    1.26 +	And so I cry tears that aren’t tears. They don’t exist, they don’t
    1.27 +cause me to cry out in grief; because they don’t exist in the world
    1.28 +where you can see and feel them. They only exist within me, as I cry
    1.29 +my way through eternity. But why do I do such a thing?
    1.30 +	A simple answer, I suppose. I do it for her. For her happiness. For
    1.31 +her heart. It’s the only path I can see. It’s the only path there is.
    1.32 +I would do anything for her; but that leaves me trapped, in a prison
    1.33 +I helped to make.
    1.34 +	I can’t leave. That would only hurt her. I can’t. I can’t stay;
    1.35 +that only causes me to die further inside of myself, pulling back,
    1.36 +only barely remembering to wear my smiling mask. But I have to stay.
    1.37 +I can’t hurt her. If I would truly do anything for her, then surely I
    1.38 +can do so simple a thing as be there through all the pain. No matter
    1.39 +what. Even if I eventually kill my own heart in the effort of trying
    1.40 +to stay, to not hurt the heart I treasure above all others.
    1.41 +	But I’m starting to wonder if that isn’t true. I’m beginning to be
    1.42 +unable to feel anything but the emotions I have for her, and the
    1.43 +emotions that I stand for her. Despair, loneliness, hope, love, and
    1.44 +endless longing, those too many to name, and worst of all reason. Is
    1.45 +reason even an emotion? Whatever it is, it is by far the worst thing
    1.46 +to have.
    1.47 +	Or the best.
    1.48 +	Without reason, wouldn’t I have ruined the life I’m so carefully
    1.49 +trying to build for her? Wouldn’t I have lost any chance of her
    1.50 +happiness? Wouldn’t she hate me?
    1.51 +	Most people would hate me, I’m sure. For something I can’t help,
    1.52 +something I never asked for, never meant to fall into…and I could do
    1.53 +nothing about it. As long as I wear my masks at least I can be near
    1.54 +her.
    1.55 +	I wish it would stop. The confusion, all of it. Every emotion that
    1.56 +swirls through me, the life I don’t want to live that I do want to
    1.57 +live. It would be easy to stop it all. But I can’t. My prison seems
    1.58 +to grow into something I can’t escape more and more as my desire to
    1.59 +escape it grows. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I wish…
    1.60 +	The last word I hear echoing through my mind, as everything quiets,
    1.61 +letting me rest, is ‘why’. Why? Why? Why…
    1.62 +	Why does anything happen? I don’t really know. I don’t know
    1.63 +anything at all, in a way. Does anyone know everything? If someone
    1.64 +does, could they come and explain to me once more why? Can they
    1.65 +explain that stupid, silly word that always ends my battles within
    1.66 +this prison?
    1.67 +	Can they explain why?
    1.68 +	I don’t want this. I don’t want to be forever wandering though this
    1.69 +dark place. I don’t want any of it. I don’t…
    1.70 +	But I do.
    1.71 +	I want the small, treasured moments where I have the light she
    1.72 +gives me. The light that eases the pain away, that forces the
    1.73 +darkness and the prison back. Sometimes the light makes me want to
    1.74 +break my masks. Sometimes it helps me to fix them, and reminds me why
    1.75 +I do any of this at all. But mostly the light leaves me with the
    1.76 +smallest, weakest hope. The most hope I can manage. The hope that
    1.77 +someday…someday…
    1.78 +	I don’t really know.
    1.79 +	The hope that she’ll save me, I guess. That’s silly, I know…you
    1.80 +have to save yourself. No one saves you. No one can, when you’re so
    1.81 +close to invisible as I am. But how am I to save myself when it takes
    1.82 +all my strength to keep alive? It takes all of me to show that smile
    1.83 +I have to give, to make them all think I’m okay. I’m always okay. I
    1.84 +have to be. If I show that I’m not, I could break it all…she can’t
    1.85 +worry about me. I can’t have that.
    1.86 +	I can’t really think anymore. I’m broken, I think. Broken. I don’t
    1.87 +think I can be fixed by anything but the one thing I can’t have.
    1.88 +Absurd, isn’t it? That I can’t find the strength to save myself, but
    1.89 +I can find it in me to save others from all that I feel? That I can
    1.90 +only mask everything that goes through my mind? That I can’t ever
    1.91 +really show all of myself, let the masks drop, let anyone, least of
    1.92 +all her, stare straight into my eyes and see in one glimpse
    1.93 +everything that I have to hide?
    1.94 +	All I can think right now it nothing, really. It’s simply an empty
    1.95 +void. I’m running out of emotions and thoughts. All but those that I
    1.96 +seem to be cursed with for the rest of my life. I must have an
    1.97 +endless supply of those; that or she hands them all to me, without
    1.98 +noticing. You’d think she’d notice. How can she simply pull something
    1.99 +out without realizing it?
   1.100 +	But that’s one of the things I like about her. She’s too innocent
   1.101 +to understand the workings of the heart, or of emotions themselves.
   1.102 +She just needs a few pushes in the right direction sometimes.
   1.103 +	But how can I know the right direction?
   1.104 +	I think she’s fallen for him, though. It’s not that hard to see. If
   1.105 +only they would move far, far away, so that it could all end. So that
   1.106 +I could make my disappearing act with her none the wiser. But no; she
   1.107 +can’t leave her home. Her friends, her family. Me. And I haven’t the
   1.108 +slightest idea why.
   1.109 +	No matter what I say I still can’t convince her that it’s for the
   1.110 +best.
   1.111 +	And so I sit here on a swing in the park, arguing with myself,
   1.112 +unconsciously smiling out of habit. Smiling when I feel like crying.
   1.113 +For once it would be nice to cry. But I wonder if I can cry. I used
   1.114 +to cry myself to sleep, a long time ago. I don’t think I have any of
   1.115 +the tears that people would refer to as real left. I think I’m too
   1.116 +far gone for that. To let it all go and simply cry. To sob. To wail.
   1.117 +To bemoan your fate.
   1.118 +	Perhaps I’m slightly insane to think that wonderful, but surely it
   1.119 +is better then this battle I hold within myself. I want them out. All
   1.120 +the painful emotions. But not the love or the hope. The love is
   1.121 +something that wouldn’t go away if I wanted it to. And the hope at
   1.122 +least gives me something to grasp. A rope thrown down into the hole
   1.123 +I’ve dug myself, beckoning for me to try to climb it, a little. A
   1.124 +rope that taunts with the thought that someone might descend to help
   1.125 +me up, or pull the rope back up with me attached.
   1.126 +	I know that the thought I keep trying to obliterate has to do with
   1.127 +that hope. The hope that it will be her who saves me; the hope that I
   1.128 +will be saved at all. Why would she save me?
   1.129 +	She doesn’t even know that I need to be saved.