Author: Dina
Title: Wilder
E-mail: nyaliss@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I no own Sailor Moon. I no have no money. Please give me money. *blinks*
*coff* I mean, please no sue me. (Does this make sense?)
Author's Notes: Take one miserable, dreary day combine with cranky student with a fever,
shake and stir. A fic is born
Humor me...
bewilder verb perplex or confuse.-ORIGIN from obsolete -wilder- 'lead or go astray'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...fallen...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is a certain truth in the things we normally would view as clichè or trite. That's the whole
reason why they are so overused. True love is a perfect example. It really is real. It really
does exist. So why do so many people dismiss it as a illusion held dear by the delusional?
Perhaps because at a basic gut instinct they know it is out there. Sometimes there needs to
be no proof. Sometimes we simply just know. As children we were wise enough not to question.
We were wise enough to simply accept and give what was meant to be shared.
But we forgot as all the previous generations before us have forgotten.
Why?
Fear.
Fear to strip away all the masks we have crafted throughout our lives to unveil the vulnurability
we have taught ourselves to deny.
Fear to give and give and give and give even when you feel like there's nothing left to give.
Fear of rejection and betrayal.
Fear of a broken heart.
Fear of ourselves.
Perhaps people are justified to turn away from the idea of True Love. After all, so many of us have
thought, "This is it!" only to be proven wrong. Too many children have watched parents that should
have loved begin to hate both each other and the little ones. Others who expected unconditional love
from those that were supposed give it to them found that there are always conditions, always rules.
"If you do this I will love you..."
If you do not, I do not know you.
We've found there's no such thing on unconditional love and so we have created our own conditions
and we cling to these like a drowning person clings to a floating plank of wood in a storm tossed sea.
We have built ourselves into prisons of our own making. We've locked ourselves in and thrown
away the key.
Who do we blame for the pain that has been nursed and protected inside us?
Ourselves.
"I have been hurt once. I will not let you hurt me again!"
But isn't the risk worth it?
Isn't it worth something to love?
It hurts, yes, but to have known that your soul is capable of gifting such a wonderful thing to another
human being. . . Isn't that worth at least the disappointment of perhaps not being loved in return or
having been loved but no longer?
Perhaps not.
Probably not.
Why would someone want to put themselves through so much pain?
I don't know.
I thought I did.
I really believed I did.
You proved me wrong.
Why? What did I do? Why am I not good enough? What part of me did you promise to love, bad or
good, and found too awful to accept?
Did I love you too much?
Did I love you so much that I tried to hold on to you too tightly only to have you shatter in my arms to leave
the circle of my embrace empty? Give me reasons. Heck, give me one reason! Why do I sit here at my
bedroom window in tears? What was so precious that I pay such a high price?
Why? What? When?
When did you stop loving me?
Perhaps you just woke up one day and realized that you were getting shortchanged with someone like me.
Perhaps you met someone else.
Who?
She's probably beautiful, graceful, intelligent like you, sophisticated like you. Nothing like me.
Where did I go wrong? Show me my mistakes. Point them out. Be brutal. Just please don't leave me
asking. Please don't leave me wondering. You've already broken my heart. It lies at your feet, shattered,
begging that you pick it up again and hold it together. Instead you only lifted your feet to crush it beneath
your heel.
Perhaps I loved--love-- you too much. I believed in you too much.
I actually thought you'd catch me if I fall. I thought you'd be there to catch me if I tripped on a mistake,
if a crash into a blunder. I thought I'd have your arms to fall into, your arms to cradle me and soothe me
and your gentle fingers to wipe away the tears of frustration, shame, guilt and hurt.
I thought you'd hold me together even when the rest of my world is falling apart.
I thought you'd love me. All of me. Always. Forever.
I thought we would prove the world wrong and have our happily ever after.
I was wrong. Horribly, terribly, incredibly wrong. How foolish of me. How naive. How stupid! I
should have listened to the lessons that had been taught to me by the world when I was young. I
should have taken that which hurt the most and became it. I should have grabbed the cruel realities
and tender dreams and made them into a double-edged sword others like you have in their arsenal
of weapons.
But I held true to my child heart.
So I stand here now, surrounded by so many who love me yet alone because he who -is- me has
turned his face from me.
I hate you!!!
But no. I don't.
I love you. I still trust you. I still believe that in the end it will be you. Only you.
Delusional, aren't I?
Humor me. Let me hold on to these delusions for longer. It hurts. The pain grows, festers, gnaws
a bigger and bigger void where my heart should be. I feel so cold but I am so hot. My eyes are
swollen and red with weeping. I despise my weakness. I despise the fact that you are the only one
who can truly offer me the solace I seek.
I detest the fact that no matter how hard I try, I can't throw you out of my heart and go one with my
life. I am much to flawed, much to imperfect to have the courage and strength to do that.
But I have tried. To make you happy. To bring myself peace.
I just... I don't know.
Love is a strange thing. Every time you love, your heart is changed. It is more like a puzzle than something
truly whole. Every person who has loved you has given part of their heart to you and sometimes it fits with
the rest of the jigsaw perfectly and at others there is simply no place. Likewise, every time you love you
give a part of yourself. It is a part that you will never be able to take back. It is only through the love of
another, the gift of a piece of their heart, that can fill the void that has been left by -your- gift. You are
much too much a part of me.
I suppose I contradict myself.
I just said a heart is not truly whole. It is a puzzle.
You've scattered the pieces of mine and I do not know if I wish to gather them in and put it back together again.
Oh, that makes no sense.
I'm making no sense.
I am confused. I love you. I hate you. I love you. Why do I feel like this?
How do I fix it? How do I make everything better? How do I get things to be the way they were before?
Why? What? When? Who? Where? How?
Too many questions with too many answers and not one of them right.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Author's Notes:
It's obvious who this is right? And yes, I know it is OOC. Okay. I just needed to establish that.
Extremely short fic. I just feel... Blah. -__- *sighs*
I'm terribly sorry about The Rose. I'm working on it. I just need the chapter to fit right. (It's being
stubborn. ;__;) I haven't even done the editions to my English paper. My prof will be so happy with
me. ~.~ Yeah right. I just can't do it. My head is going to explode. Well, tell me what you thought?
Bad? Horrible? Terrible? The worst thing ever? (My mood is showing. ;__; Sorry)
E-mail is always very good. (Even when it's bad)
Always,
Dina with the Fever. *gags*
Title: Wilder
E-mail: nyaliss@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I no own Sailor Moon. I no have no money. Please give me money. *blinks*
*coff* I mean, please no sue me. (Does this make sense?)
Author's Notes: Take one miserable, dreary day combine with cranky student with a fever,
shake and stir. A fic is born
Humor me...
bewilder verb perplex or confuse.-ORIGIN from obsolete -wilder- 'lead or go astray'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...fallen...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is a certain truth in the things we normally would view as clichè or trite. That's the whole
reason why they are so overused. True love is a perfect example. It really is real. It really
does exist. So why do so many people dismiss it as a illusion held dear by the delusional?
Perhaps because at a basic gut instinct they know it is out there. Sometimes there needs to
be no proof. Sometimes we simply just know. As children we were wise enough not to question.
We were wise enough to simply accept and give what was meant to be shared.
But we forgot as all the previous generations before us have forgotten.
Why?
Fear.
Fear to strip away all the masks we have crafted throughout our lives to unveil the vulnurability
we have taught ourselves to deny.
Fear to give and give and give and give even when you feel like there's nothing left to give.
Fear of rejection and betrayal.
Fear of a broken heart.
Fear of ourselves.
Perhaps people are justified to turn away from the idea of True Love. After all, so many of us have
thought, "This is it!" only to be proven wrong. Too many children have watched parents that should
have loved begin to hate both each other and the little ones. Others who expected unconditional love
from those that were supposed give it to them found that there are always conditions, always rules.
"If you do this I will love you..."
If you do not, I do not know you.
We've found there's no such thing on unconditional love and so we have created our own conditions
and we cling to these like a drowning person clings to a floating plank of wood in a storm tossed sea.
We have built ourselves into prisons of our own making. We've locked ourselves in and thrown
away the key.
Who do we blame for the pain that has been nursed and protected inside us?
Ourselves.
"I have been hurt once. I will not let you hurt me again!"
But isn't the risk worth it?
Isn't it worth something to love?
It hurts, yes, but to have known that your soul is capable of gifting such a wonderful thing to another
human being. . . Isn't that worth at least the disappointment of perhaps not being loved in return or
having been loved but no longer?
Perhaps not.
Probably not.
Why would someone want to put themselves through so much pain?
I don't know.
I thought I did.
I really believed I did.
You proved me wrong.
Why? What did I do? Why am I not good enough? What part of me did you promise to love, bad or
good, and found too awful to accept?
Did I love you too much?
Did I love you so much that I tried to hold on to you too tightly only to have you shatter in my arms to leave
the circle of my embrace empty? Give me reasons. Heck, give me one reason! Why do I sit here at my
bedroom window in tears? What was so precious that I pay such a high price?
Why? What? When?
When did you stop loving me?
Perhaps you just woke up one day and realized that you were getting shortchanged with someone like me.
Perhaps you met someone else.
Who?
She's probably beautiful, graceful, intelligent like you, sophisticated like you. Nothing like me.
Where did I go wrong? Show me my mistakes. Point them out. Be brutal. Just please don't leave me
asking. Please don't leave me wondering. You've already broken my heart. It lies at your feet, shattered,
begging that you pick it up again and hold it together. Instead you only lifted your feet to crush it beneath
your heel.
Perhaps I loved--love-- you too much. I believed in you too much.
I actually thought you'd catch me if I fall. I thought you'd be there to catch me if I tripped on a mistake,
if a crash into a blunder. I thought I'd have your arms to fall into, your arms to cradle me and soothe me
and your gentle fingers to wipe away the tears of frustration, shame, guilt and hurt.
I thought you'd hold me together even when the rest of my world is falling apart.
I thought you'd love me. All of me. Always. Forever.
I thought we would prove the world wrong and have our happily ever after.
I was wrong. Horribly, terribly, incredibly wrong. How foolish of me. How naive. How stupid! I
should have listened to the lessons that had been taught to me by the world when I was young. I
should have taken that which hurt the most and became it. I should have grabbed the cruel realities
and tender dreams and made them into a double-edged sword others like you have in their arsenal
of weapons.
But I held true to my child heart.
So I stand here now, surrounded by so many who love me yet alone because he who -is- me has
turned his face from me.
I hate you!!!
But no. I don't.
I love you. I still trust you. I still believe that in the end it will be you. Only you.
Delusional, aren't I?
Humor me. Let me hold on to these delusions for longer. It hurts. The pain grows, festers, gnaws
a bigger and bigger void where my heart should be. I feel so cold but I am so hot. My eyes are
swollen and red with weeping. I despise my weakness. I despise the fact that you are the only one
who can truly offer me the solace I seek.
I detest the fact that no matter how hard I try, I can't throw you out of my heart and go one with my
life. I am much to flawed, much to imperfect to have the courage and strength to do that.
But I have tried. To make you happy. To bring myself peace.
I just... I don't know.
Love is a strange thing. Every time you love, your heart is changed. It is more like a puzzle than something
truly whole. Every person who has loved you has given part of their heart to you and sometimes it fits with
the rest of the jigsaw perfectly and at others there is simply no place. Likewise, every time you love you
give a part of yourself. It is a part that you will never be able to take back. It is only through the love of
another, the gift of a piece of their heart, that can fill the void that has been left by -your- gift. You are
much too much a part of me.
I suppose I contradict myself.
I just said a heart is not truly whole. It is a puzzle.
You've scattered the pieces of mine and I do not know if I wish to gather them in and put it back together again.
Oh, that makes no sense.
I'm making no sense.
I am confused. I love you. I hate you. I love you. Why do I feel like this?
How do I fix it? How do I make everything better? How do I get things to be the way they were before?
Why? What? When? Who? Where? How?
Too many questions with too many answers and not one of them right.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Author's Notes:
It's obvious who this is right? And yes, I know it is OOC. Okay. I just needed to establish that.
Extremely short fic. I just feel... Blah. -__- *sighs*
I'm terribly sorry about The Rose. I'm working on it. I just need the chapter to fit right. (It's being
stubborn. ;__;) I haven't even done the editions to my English paper. My prof will be so happy with
me. ~.~ Yeah right. I just can't do it. My head is going to explode. Well, tell me what you thought?
Bad? Horrible? Terrible? The worst thing ever? (My mood is showing. ;__; Sorry)
E-mail is always very good. (Even when it's bad)
Always,
Dina with the Fever. *gags*