DISCALIMER: This was produced in an insanely short amount of time…don't blame me if it sucks. I don't own Escaflowne.
*~Daydream Believer~*
There's an old saying that goes, "It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all…"
Whoever came up with that load of crap had obviously never lost love, the lucky bastard.
I can say that I would have enjoyed never to have loved than go through the absolute agony of not being with the one person in your life that could have possibly made you entirely happy.
God, life sucks.
What makes it worse is that I never really knew if he loved me back. Unrequited love is a truly agonizing thing. Sure, there were times when I was almost positive that he was about to confess that he reciprocated at least some of my feelings, but he never did. Deep down, I know he was scared. Scared of my rejection, even though he had no idea that he would never get one. Then there were all those times that he saved my life, but those could easily be attributed to the fact that he had a responsibility of getting me back home safely (which entailed me being alive and I one piece).
I guess I'll never truly be sure what Van feels for me…or maybe it was felt.
Lately I've been getting that awful feeling that Van has all but forgotten me. I haven't really spoken to him in a long time, even though his essence appears here on Earth every year on the anniversary of the end of the Gaean war and my return to my home planet. Even then, he only appears briefly, somehow always managing to catch me at the most inopportune times. For the past three years we haven't even been able to speak to each other.
It's been seven years since Van sent me back to the Mystic Moon. Plenty of time to get over someone. Especially if you never see them. In a way I'm a little angry at Van. He promised to get me back home. I don't know if he realized that the Mystic Moon no longer felt like home to me. The short months spent in Gaea where I was plagued by horrid visions, was kidnapped, nearly killed a dozen times, suffered from cardiac arrest, and where I was thrown into the horror of war had, ironically, felt more like home than I ever cared to say. The people I was so haphazardly thrown together with felt so real and I felt more bonded with them than with the people that I had known for years on Earth.
But I never breathed a word of any of this to anyone. I don't think I even realized it until that fateful day Van sent me back. I hate myself for never having the guts to tell him how I had felt then and, surprisingly enough, still feel now.
But it's all done now, you can't go back to the past. All you can do is learn from your mistakes and try to live your life as best you can.
Thinking like that is what has gotten me through the wreck which is my life. I've really come to despise it. All of it, everything about this horrible place makes me sick. The pollution, the apathy, the crime level, the obsession with fashion and image, the farce that is the government, etc…It's all a big mess I no longer want to be a part of.
Sometimes I stare out into the sky and wonder what my life would have been had I told him, had I had the guts to let him know that I wanted to stay by his side for the rest of my life. I smile because I always dream up the perfect life where I would actually be happy and cared for, where I wouldn't want anything because all I would ever need was his love.
Call me a daydream believer, but it's the truth.
And the truth hurts. It hurts so badly.
I just want to cry out to the heavens to take me back home. Please take me to what I love. But it's all useless, and I know better than to wish. My wishes never brought any good to anyone.
I want to see you Van. I want you to take me home.
I love you…
Okay, I'm not sure whether or not I should continue this…
I would like to know your opinion...please review.
--Lady Rebecca