I see his face in my dreams. I swear I hear his voice calling my name at work. Almost every day I think I see him standing in front of me on the busy street. No matter how I try to deny it, he is a part of me, and I hate it.
I've been on dates since he's been gone, but every touch with another man reminds me of him. That same touch that I loved and hated so passionately at the same time. It's not like he was any prize, in fact, he was arrogant animal. My sixteen year old self was captured by his smirk, and his height, and his wit. I loved how he would bury his face in my hair and tickle me when I was feeling sad. I loved his large tan hands, his muscular arms, his long and messy brown hair, and his eyes. God, his eyes. Never before in my life have I met anyone else with such dark and stormy eyes. Every emotion he held inside himself poured out of his eyes and directly into my heart. I saw those eyes full of love, but I also saw them burning with lust and anger. I hated when he would grab my wrists and yell at me. I hated his slaps and accusations. Our relationship consisted mostly of being angry at each other, occasionally putting our disagreements aside.
However, for how much of a monster he was, I in turn was no angel. I too would scream and yell as well, many times provoking him. I knew that underneath it all he was as disturbed and vulnerable as I was. Many people at that stage in my life seemed to think I was the good girl. I was the one who was the poster-child for the meek and harmless mutant. They were so wrong. By the time my seventeenth birthday rolled around, I was far from innocent and naive. He had taken that from me very early on, being that he was everything worldly and dark. The part of it all that still haunts me is that even though he stole so much from me, he knew me inside and out. He knew who I was long before I ever knew.
I dated him on and off until I turned nineteen, when he moved to out of the Brotherhood house and to the Institute to be with me. The anti-mutant sentiment had been fast growing, and a small manifesting of my mutant abilities had left me weak and depressed. That year was the best and worst year of my life. I have dreams that re-live some of those cold nights he held me close and whispered comforting words into my ear. I can picture his smiling face bathed in early morning sunlight. When I close my eyes I can still feel the sensation of his warm lips against mine; his hand stroking my long dark hair. I can still hear Kurt and him joking around and teasing me. I also remember plenty of venomous remarks he spat at me during our fights.
That was also the year my parents died. With them gone I officially had no one but him, being that all of my extended family disowned me for being a mutant. A fire had burned down the house with them inside, and ironically, that was the spark that started the fire inside of me.
One may evening a week before I turned twenty he, for the first time ever in the five years I had known him, cried and told me he loved me and wanted to stay with me forever. That statement numbed me. I had known for a long time that I loved him, but never told him. I had never planned a future for us, because deep down I knew I had no future in mind for myself. I didn't know what to do.
On my birthday, I woke up at three A.M. and threw some of my stuff and one of his sweatshirts into a duffel bag, put on a coat, and kissed his sleeping face before leaving. I left a note for the professor saying I needed to have my own space and live more normally for a while, which was partly true, but I did not intend to return to the Institute as I implied in my note. I cried the entire plane ride to Cincinnati, mourning the loss of the only thing I had left in my lonely world. I had to leave. Did I love him? Completely. However, he had too much fire and rage in him, and I knew that the spark that had ignited within me would only grow if I stayed by his side.
That was four years ago. Now I am attending the University of Cincinnati majoring in computer science with the money left by my parents, and working nights bartending and waitressing at a dive two blocks down from my crappy apartment. I have a few friends but not any close ones, so I spend much of my time studying when I'm not working. I have spent the past four Hanukkahs, Thanksgivings, and Valentine's Days with a scraggly cat I rescued as a kitten soon after moving into my apartment. I guess it is a sad existence, but I know I can't go back. Not now. Not after it's been this long.
I miss him terribly, and I cry myself to sleep every night. He has tried to text and email me many times, but I can't answer. I finally threw my phone away last year. I never use my powers so Xavier cannot locate me, because the last thing I need is for anyone to try and come take me "home". The truth is I don't belong anywhere, really. I feel awful for shutting him out like this, but it is for the best. The plain and simple truth is that we cannot be together. Fate will not allow it. It wasn't meant to be. Every night I have to come up with a million justifications for what I did, just to keep myself from going insane.
I have lost track of who I really am. I know for sure I'm not who I used to be. I would not be surprised if I was now described as cold and rude. In my twenty-four years I have saved the world, watches humankind disclaim me as their own, seen people kill ones like me solely for our differences, and witnessed society tear itself to shreds. This world is engaged in a full on war with itself, and I stand in the middle. I no longer feel like a mutant or a human. I barely feel like I'm existing.
A long time ago Rogue and I had been giggling and laughing on our beds and talking about boys. She matter-of-factly stated that it would be impossible to fall in love with someone and not marry or spend the rest of your life with them. At the time I agreed with her.
I don't even know why I am writing all of this. I guess I figured that I used to write my feelings down all of the time, so why not do it again. Now that this is on paper it seems even worse that it does in my head, and I don't know what to do with it. My heart hurts, and there is nothing more I can do to heal it. It is too far gone to be repaired. I accepted that the day I fell for him. I hate him more than anyone I have ever met, but I also love him more than I ever dreamed was possible. Part of me hopes he moved on and continued his life, but in the dark corner of my heart I hope he mourns me as much as I do him. I miss his voice, his face, his hands, his feet, his smile, his smell, his embrace, his touch… his deep brown eyes.
I love you Lance, and I will till the day I die.