Hey, there! Bleach isn't mine, but I have plans to keep writing my fic. Don't mind this piece, I'm drunk and I'm not really depressed.
Self-Esteem
Maybe it's okay, even if I don't do anything.
I mean, we have always been like this, and I still feel exactly the same way. If I acted now, or tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, who knows what would happen? Who knows how would I feel?
Sometimes I think I'd feel scared. More scared than I have ever been in my life. And I've been scared before, even if no one noticed. I was scared when I thought I wouldn't be able to complete my mission. I was scared when I thought she might die. Sometimes I think I'd feel more scared than that; so scared, I wouldn't even be able to move - that I wouldn't even be able to speak. Fear is such an irrational feeling.
Sometimes I just think it's ridiculous to even think about such things. Why would I want to tell her? What would I want to tell her? There's nothing to say, nothing to be done... I already spend all of my time with her, and I already know all of her feelings, all her thoughts. What else do I want? To be scratched behind my ears? That's just ridiculous.
Sometimes, rarely, I think about how'd she feel. I don't dwell much on it. I have no idea how she'd react, but I don't think it matters to me. If I knew she'd be happy if I said something, would I say it just to make her happy? If I knew she'd hate me for saying something, could I keep silent for her sake? I've never done it before, and I don't think I'd start now. If one wasn't born deaf, if one wasn't born blind, surely it was to be able to aprehend the world, even if they didn't want to. No; whatever I wouldn't say with my mouth, my body would explain in its own language. I have no doubt everyone knows what I think and how I feel by now - everyone, except me, that is.
But, could I make things better, just by saying something? Could I make it real, just by making her hear me? Can even one word summarize what goes inside my heart? What if it won't include what goes inside her mind? What if, just if, I say it out loud, I hear my own voice saying it, and I can't understand what it means? Could she understand it, even if I don't? Would she show me what it really means?
Maybe if she'd just show me what I mean to her...
But she already shows me everyday. Everyday she calls me her Lady, everyday she won't look inside my eyes when I talk to her. Every minute she spends getting stronger, so I won't mind her presence. So I won't notice she's not a part of me, like another arm or leg. She is just my third fist; she is just my second heart. And just like I don't tell my first fists how I need them to survive, just like I don't beg this heart inside my chest to never stop beating, maybe it's okay if I don't say anything.
Even though I won't tell them, they know they must be strong, they must keep fighting for me (my fists). They know they must bear me, and carry me to safety (my legs). They know they must pump the blood in my veins, they must show me the world through my eyes, they must translate to me the taste in my mouth, and they must pleasure me in all of that.
But why must just this part of me, this huge part of me (that is her), hurt every day so much?
Her pain is a visceral pain; it hurts inside of me, even though she's not inside of me - because she's not inside of me. It makes me feel weak, and I clench my fists. I can't feel them very well, and I remember I'm drunk. So I sigh, relieved, and look at my hands, and I tell them, "thank you", because it doesn't matter, when you're drunk. It doesn't matter, if there's a reason, or if it makes sense, so I look at my feet, and I touch my own face, and I say, again, and again, "thank you". And I hear what my ears tell me in her voice, and I can't understand what it means, but I just say, "I love you". And I know I'll wake up in my own bed, tucked in safely beneath my sheets, and I know I'm being narcissist, but I just wish I could wake up with her.