rlm@0: Disclaimer: Me again. I suddenly got in a writing mood, so here it rlm@0: is! Please note that I do not own any copyrighted items. I hope you rlm@0: all enjoy it. ~.^ ~~Forever3330~~ ^.~ rlm@0: rlm@0: Thoughts rlm@0: By Forever3330 rlm@0: kawaiimotoko@hotmail.com rlm@0: rlm@0: Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Sitting on the sidelines, rlm@0: holding everything swirling around in me back, building wall upon rlm@0: wall around my true heart, trying to lock it away, all so that I can rlm@0: give her, to the best of my ability, what she deserves. Someone who rlm@0: loves her, who can protect her and her precious heart, who can help rlm@0: her to shine more brightly then she already does, who can give her a rlm@0: life. A marriage, a family, a reason to live. rlm@0: My treacherous heart is torn in two; I love her! I can protect her! rlm@0: I can help her shine more brightly! But when it comes to the last, I rlm@0: stop. Everything simply grows cold and I force a smile, just from rlm@0: habit, as I feel the familiar despair and reason wash over me. I rlm@0: can’t give her a life. Not a marriage, not a family. And how, how rlm@0: could I possibly give her a reason to live, when I couldn’t do those rlm@0: simple things? rlm@0: And so I cry tears that aren’t tears. They don’t exist, they don’t rlm@0: cause me to cry out in grief; because they don’t exist in the world rlm@0: where you can see and feel them. They only exist within me, as I cry rlm@0: my way through eternity. But why do I do such a thing? rlm@0: A simple answer, I suppose. I do it for her. For her happiness. For rlm@0: her heart. It’s the only path I can see. It’s the only path there is. rlm@0: I would do anything for her; but that leaves me trapped, in a prison rlm@0: I helped to make. rlm@0: I can’t leave. That would only hurt her. I can’t. I can’t stay; rlm@0: that only causes me to die further inside of myself, pulling back, rlm@0: only barely remembering to wear my smiling mask. But I have to stay. rlm@0: I can’t hurt her. If I would truly do anything for her, then surely I rlm@0: can do so simple a thing as be there through all the pain. No matter rlm@0: what. Even if I eventually kill my own heart in the effort of trying rlm@0: to stay, to not hurt the heart I treasure above all others. rlm@0: But I’m starting to wonder if that isn’t true. I’m beginning to be rlm@0: unable to feel anything but the emotions I have for her, and the rlm@0: emotions that I stand for her. Despair, loneliness, hope, love, and rlm@0: endless longing, those too many to name, and worst of all reason. Is rlm@0: reason even an emotion? Whatever it is, it is by far the worst thing rlm@0: to have. rlm@0: Or the best. rlm@0: Without reason, wouldn’t I have ruined the life I’m so carefully rlm@0: trying to build for her? Wouldn’t I have lost any chance of her rlm@0: happiness? Wouldn’t she hate me? rlm@0: Most people would hate me, I’m sure. For something I can’t help, rlm@0: something I never asked for, never meant to fall into…and I could do rlm@0: nothing about it. As long as I wear my masks at least I can be near rlm@0: her. rlm@0: I wish it would stop. The confusion, all of it. Every emotion that rlm@0: swirls through me, the life I don’t want to live that I do want to rlm@0: live. It would be easy to stop it all. But I can’t. My prison seems rlm@0: to grow into something I can’t escape more and more as my desire to rlm@0: escape it grows. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I wish… rlm@0: The last word I hear echoing through my mind, as everything quiets, rlm@0: letting me rest, is ‘why’. Why? Why? Why… rlm@0: Why does anything happen? I don’t really know. I don’t know rlm@0: anything at all, in a way. Does anyone know everything? If someone rlm@0: does, could they come and explain to me once more why? Can they rlm@0: explain that stupid, silly word that always ends my battles within rlm@0: this prison? rlm@0: Can they explain why? rlm@0: I don’t want this. I don’t want to be forever wandering though this rlm@0: dark place. I don’t want any of it. I don’t… rlm@0: But I do. rlm@0: I want the small, treasured moments where I have the light she rlm@0: gives me. The light that eases the pain away, that forces the rlm@0: darkness and the prison back. Sometimes the light makes me want to rlm@0: break my masks. Sometimes it helps me to fix them, and reminds me why rlm@0: I do any of this at all. But mostly the light leaves me with the rlm@0: smallest, weakest hope. The most hope I can manage. The hope that rlm@0: someday…someday… rlm@0: I don’t really know. rlm@0: The hope that she’ll save me, I guess. That’s silly, I know…you rlm@0: have to save yourself. No one saves you. No one can, when you’re so rlm@0: close to invisible as I am. But how am I to save myself when it takes rlm@0: all my strength to keep alive? It takes all of me to show that smile rlm@0: I have to give, to make them all think I’m okay. I’m always okay. I rlm@0: have to be. If I show that I’m not, I could break it all…she can’t rlm@0: worry about me. I can’t have that. rlm@0: I can’t really think anymore. I’m broken, I think. Broken. I don’t rlm@0: think I can be fixed by anything but the one thing I can’t have. rlm@0: Absurd, isn’t it? That I can’t find the strength to save myself, but rlm@0: I can find it in me to save others from all that I feel? That I can rlm@0: only mask everything that goes through my mind? That I can’t ever rlm@0: really show all of myself, let the masks drop, let anyone, least of rlm@0: all her, stare straight into my eyes and see in one glimpse rlm@0: everything that I have to hide? rlm@0: All I can think right now it nothing, really. It’s simply an empty rlm@0: void. I’m running out of emotions and thoughts. All but those that I rlm@0: seem to be cursed with for the rest of my life. I must have an rlm@0: endless supply of those; that or she hands them all to me, without rlm@0: noticing. You’d think she’d notice. How can she simply pull something rlm@0: out without realizing it? rlm@0: But that’s one of the things I like about her. She’s too innocent rlm@0: to understand the workings of the heart, or of emotions themselves. rlm@0: She just needs a few pushes in the right direction sometimes. rlm@0: But how can I know the right direction? rlm@0: I think she’s fallen for him, though. It’s not that hard to see. If rlm@0: only they would move far, far away, so that it could all end. So that rlm@0: I could make my disappearing act with her none the wiser. But no; she rlm@0: can’t leave her home. Her friends, her family. Me. And I haven’t the rlm@0: slightest idea why. rlm@0: No matter what I say I still can’t convince her that it’s for the rlm@0: best. rlm@0: And so I sit here on a swing in the park, arguing with myself, rlm@0: unconsciously smiling out of habit. Smiling when I feel like crying. rlm@0: For once it would be nice to cry. But I wonder if I can cry. I used rlm@0: to cry myself to sleep, a long time ago. I don’t think I have any of rlm@0: the tears that people would refer to as real left. I think I’m too rlm@0: far gone for that. To let it all go and simply cry. To sob. To wail. rlm@0: To bemoan your fate. rlm@0: Perhaps I’m slightly insane to think that wonderful, but surely it rlm@0: is better then this battle I hold within myself. I want them out. All rlm@0: the painful emotions. But not the love or the hope. The love is rlm@0: something that wouldn’t go away if I wanted it to. And the hope at rlm@0: least gives me something to grasp. A rope thrown down into the hole rlm@0: I’ve dug myself, beckoning for me to try to climb it, a little. A rlm@0: rope that taunts with the thought that someone might descend to help rlm@0: me up, or pull the rope back up with me attached. rlm@0: I know that the thought I keep trying to obliterate has to do with rlm@0: that hope. The hope that it will be her who saves me; the hope that I rlm@0: will be saved at all. Why would she save me? rlm@0: She doesn’t even know that I need to be saved.