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Writing on the Walls and in the Halls

[pencillingbeauty]

I'm independent first and foremost But yours nonetheless I'm searching for my own way But left stumbling in your wake You've gone and left me blind To the ways that I once knew I wonder what it would be like If I hadn't met you...

[pencillingbeauty]

My god my god It's scary, it's weird, It's unfathomable. I don't understand,

I don't understand why there is worth, and There is weight. There is an anchor in my heart and it shifts from time to time, Heating up and causing a lurch in my step.

There is so much weight to his words And weight in my heart Because I'm drinking in every sentence, word, and letter as it falls into my lap savory sweet with enough sugar to cause a rush And I simply don't know What To do...

It affects me so deeply I'm left confused, Stumbling in my own thoughts, Muddled by my inability to cope.

And scared. So scared.

Because what if this is all a dream and my reality is so less enticing. What if I am being played like the games that he and I love? What if I am so far down the rabbit hole I can't get out?

What if this is a lie?

[pencillingbeauty]

Call it a divulging of secrets Call it a moment of weakness Call it a hope A dream…

I know. I find it hard to vocalize and verbalize What I desire and what I crave And I’m too worried for the other parties that I don’t pay attention to myself.

But… I want… I want…? I want.

Someone who can put up with me and throw it right back Someone who will laugh with me Someone affectionate Someone who gives me the time of day because he wants to Someone I adore Someone kind and funny and quirky in his own way Maybe he’ll be tall. Or cool. Or cut. Or just. Him. Maybe we’ll start out friends Or maybe not. Maybe… Hopefully… Please…

I’ll find someone. But. I’ve stopped looking because. Well. If it’s time It’s time. Elsewise. I guess it’s not. I’m not looking For a knight in shining armor. I’m looking For a best friend first A boyfriend later. I want not just warm cuddles and jokes and movie nights and make outs and cheesy dates. But cliche sleepovers under the stars and dances in the rain I want slow dances and Passionate kisses. Reassurance that I’m not dreaming…. I want parents meeting each other And good feelings And understanding and love. So much love…

The warm blossoming kind that makes me go lightheaded. Or The rush of emotion that makes me lose my mind because I am so far deep in the hole I’ve fallen into

That…

That I don’t want to get out of it…

Not just yet. 

[pencillingbeauty]

Compared to everyone else, I’m just… I'm just me. And that’s probably what hurts the most…

[pencillingbeauty]

The world's too big a place For it to shred me piece by piece As I stumble around Giving my heart to all And saving nothing for the cavity It's left.

Just like it's too small a room For me to grow and smile While my wings are clipped And my laughs are forced The more I stay inside...

[pencillingbeauty]

A friend is not someone to be compartmentalized.

A friendship is a give and take of fairly equal values.

I open my arms and ears to you believing That you will offer the same to me That is my only request upon entering this latest fray...

I'm sorry to say you didn't. Because I am not your singular action response box. I am not your truth-sayer nor your nay-sayer. Just as she is not your yes-man nor your falsified words of comfort. I am a human being. She is a human being. We. Are. Human.

And I ask--

No. I demand

That we be treated as such.

[pencillingbeauty]

Who is my partner? Why not Mako? Should I say something more? Who is my partner? I would rather drift with her. Is there some sort of new tech out that will make me otherwise singular in control--no no Raleigh why would they be testing for a new partner otherwise stop. Breathe. Dinner. It's time for dinner. Go eat dinner.

He leaves whatever hallway he's in--he got lost, figures his physical being would copy his mentality, he should have been paying better attention--and wanders until he catches sight of a familiar engineer and quietly follows him to a recognizable room. Finally, he orients himself and makes his way to the mess hall. Dinner is filled with tense eating on his part and quiet stewing from Chuck in the background--he doesn't deign to ask. Herc says nothing. The dog sits at their feet awaiting his usual scraps.

Who?

He manages to later siphon some of Tendo's time for a good old chat later that evening. And a glass of watered down scotch. He was technically on the job tomorrow. Anything to distract him from the impending onslaught of questions. 

He sleeps as fitfully as ever. Nightmares. Nightmares plagued by Yancy, the pain in his arm making him clench his teeth, sweat rolls down his face and he wakes suddenly. Heaving. 

2:30 AM

Who?

He stares at his walls of photos until he finds himself opening his eyes to the alarm at 6 AM.

It's almost mechanic they way his fingers ghost mournfully over Yancy's photograph when he leaves his bed. Almost mechanic the way he gets ready. Almost mechanic the way he puts on his clothes. He should have been excited. He was back in a jeager. All he could think of was his brother being ripped away and the pain that lasted for days when he reached the shore of that icy snowy hell that endured his mental rehabilitation for years on end. A dry chuckle left his mouth when he considered the irony of him returning to help with the otherwise useless Wall of Life (Waste of Time he once heard it called). 

Breakfast tasted like sand. The small verbal scuffle between Herc's testosterone filled son was not much of a stress-eater for him, it made it worse.

Who?

Returning to his room he grabbed his sack. Even though he paused at her door, hand raised and thoughts reaching a clamorous standstill of expectation. He...

He couldn't bring himself to knock. He thought of what she said. His hand dropped. The rampant uproar resumed and joined to make one synonymous word.

Who?

He's ready to put on his helmet when he hears the voice announce the copilet, when he hears familiar taps of the boots of a similar suit to what he's wearing. He doesn't hear himself speak. Gearing himself he turns to face the newcomer, hope shattered and withering solemnly in his chest.

What he sees is hardly what he expects. He does after all start from the feet up.

Petite. Slender. Woman. Proud. His heart leaps for just a moment because maybe just maybe.

Electric blue.

It's only been days but that blue that he sees is like a punch to the gut and a slap to the question that ran amuck in his head for hours on end. His eyes focus on her face. He feels like his chest is on fire he is so damn happy.

"Sure. Are you gonna say anything?"

"No point. Five minutes you're gonna be inside my head. You look good." He smirks. 

Mako Mori. That's who.

[pencillingbeauty]

I am scared of falling in love.

I am just a few degrees from tipping over and falling, falling, Falling Past you And into every childish whim that plagues my heart’s desires.

To be peppered with kisses across my face, To have a cliche cuddle beneath the unbridled beauty of a starry-lit sky, To have a partner in the war called romance.

And then time passes and I am falling, falling, Falling As I quarrel with myself. Heart frozen with fear and brain skittish with nerves. Do I say? Do I tell? Will he walk away? Was I the only one who fell?

CLICK.

The timer-controlled door slams shut in my face, a whooshing of old air and stale stagnant dust that stings my cheek like a slap to the face.

I am left to despair at my indecision as he Walks Away.

I let the chance pass. So begins my war to end all wars yet again.

[pencillingbeauty]

You can tell a story From an expression.

You can tell a lifetime From a photograph.

But you cannot tell me Who I am—What I am supposed to be From judgement.

You cannot tell me the time of day If you cannot gather the humility to look down at your watch and look up at your conversational partner Offering the respect you might give to your significant other IF They are your equal and you are theirs.

Above all,

I am not someone to be trifled with

Nor someone who is so ignorant to the world around her that life itself is but a penny at her feet

Nor do I let the comments of rude peers shatter the glass of my existence and my self worth drop

Because in the end, is it not What I think of myself that matters most?

[pencillingbeauty]

I. I. I. 

A single letter word that's defining yet causes so much damn pain

The association of every personal negative output that contradicts the outsider's positive input of

"You."

A word that soothes like rubbing sandpaper on open sores because

It's. Not.

True.

Not to I,

I who hides my insanity I who hides my emotions I who cannot accept the views of others because I am so wrapped in my own cocoon of demeaning words that spur the self-depreciation...

Because I can't see past the assumed faux-genuineness of the people who "care" and their words and how they try and help.

But I hate how easy I can make it all turn into nothing Yet I love how easy I can make the slightest crinkle of emotion in my face disappear within a single breath...

[pencillingbeauty]

I'm hearing words But I'm not understanding

I'm seeing worlds But I'm not comprehending

I'm existing But I'm not living.

To live is to breathe and smile and dream and I...

I'm not?

I miss the days where I wasn't a robot Where I had sincerity and clarity When I could reach out my hands and pull down the stars The days where I of all people, was someone worthwhile

Where am I now? What am I now? Who am I?

Who am I to say these things when there is still a person staring back in the mirror And there are people around that are giving the time of day to someone so alone and so damn cold

What have I done?