Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
It made her chest ache, with some bittersweet emotion between satisfaction and gratitude, that he would find her to be the kind of happiness worth pretending for. That this... them... was something he wanted enough to run away from it, so that it wouldn't be taken. Better to leave before it broke in your hands? And he was right, it wasn't fair. Because he'd said he wanted to try, and taken her outstretched hand, and now it hurt her, to see him distance himself.
Ah, but... it helped put some perspective to her own pain, and her own fear, too. It wasn't a competition on who's woes were greater, but... if almost losing him was this bad, then how much worse was it to actually lose him? In the end, he was still there, right beside her. If she allowed herself, Maea would feel the heat radiating from him, and if she just reached out, his hand would be there. Big and warm, a little calloused and a bit scarred... but very gentle. And very real.
Something Weaver had said rose through her mind. That if he kept coming back to her, then she'd won. And it wasn't a competition, but... the ghost he was chasing was gone. And in the end, wasn't her emotions hers? The love she felt for Sunjata, the happiness when she was with him, the sadness when she was alone, even this accursed pain and fear... Was it enough, if she just controlled herself, in the end? If she gave what she could give, and accepted what he could offer, and somehow learned to accept all the rest?
She bit her lip, feeling like she was on the verge of some great epiphany. Right on the edge of finding some deeper truth to fulfillment, of personal growth.
"I... think I'm done with doing what's safe," she admitted quietly. Turning her face towards him, she pushed the blanket down a little. To try and look at him properly. "Before... I asked Loren to fight me. For real. So I could feel what it's like to break. And... and I'm still scared, but.. but I kind of want to know.. what it's like to fall, too."
Scared of pain, scared of regret, of letting go of things she couldn't control, scared of so many damn things... Of knowing that this time, if she threw herself off that cliff, he might not be there to catch her in the end. But part of falling was landing, right? To learn how to scrape yourself off the ground and keep going.
And it was all very pretty, her words, and could mean anything. But the small, trembling hand that searched for his under the blanket... it should be explanation enough.
Ah, but... it helped put some perspective to her own pain, and her own fear, too. It wasn't a competition on who's woes were greater, but... if almost losing him was this bad, then how much worse was it to actually lose him? In the end, he was still there, right beside her. If she allowed herself, Maea would feel the heat radiating from him, and if she just reached out, his hand would be there. Big and warm, a little calloused and a bit scarred... but very gentle. And very real.
Something Weaver had said rose through her mind. That if he kept coming back to her, then she'd won. And it wasn't a competition, but... the ghost he was chasing was gone. And in the end, wasn't her emotions hers? The love she felt for Sunjata, the happiness when she was with him, the sadness when she was alone, even this accursed pain and fear... Was it enough, if she just controlled herself, in the end? If she gave what she could give, and accepted what he could offer, and somehow learned to accept all the rest?
She bit her lip, feeling like she was on the verge of some great epiphany. Right on the edge of finding some deeper truth to fulfillment, of personal growth.
"I... think I'm done with doing what's safe," she admitted quietly. Turning her face towards him, she pushed the blanket down a little. To try and look at him properly. "Before... I asked Loren to fight me. For real. So I could feel what it's like to break. And... and I'm still scared, but.. but I kind of want to know.. what it's like to fall, too."
Scared of pain, scared of regret, of letting go of things she couldn't control, scared of so many damn things... Of knowing that this time, if she threw herself off that cliff, he might not be there to catch her in the end. But part of falling was landing, right? To learn how to scrape yourself off the ground and keep going.
And it was all very pretty, her words, and could mean anything. But the small, trembling hand that searched for his under the blanket... it should be explanation enough.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
