Tides of lost remembrance

One's cigarette lit by another one's lighter. You are wondering : "what does it mean?" But you are still doing it. And still, you haven't opened your mouth to speak. But your eyes have already sent enough. So you feel very... strange... because you know exactly what is going to happen without knowing what you are about to do. You are only sure of one thing : you needed to meet him again. What for? You don't know. Because even if you had an idea of what to do once in front of this person, it fades at the precise moment when your eyes meet his.

Clouds of smoke raise, every new wave blowing away the previous one. Little dying sparks as silver ashes fall. And this heart you tried so hard to freeze begins to melt... For you have met again this special person. The only one really ruling your heart, always sending the same message. So even though your eyes and thoughts are colder than a glacier, your heart is getting warmer and warmer. And is beginning to beat so fast you can hardly breathe.

It hurts. Deep within your chest, your mixed feelings are fighting and you can't do anything to stop it. When you look at the person in front of you, it's getting worse and worse. His eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses, so you think you can avoid his glance full of meanings from a too painful past... but in fact nothing is enough to may let you forget your guilt. You keep your tears inside your heart, fearing his teases.

Far, far away from that moment, you'll have forgotten most of your past. But you'll remember his smile... even if it's the last thing you are able to call back from all your common memories. Because it had made you feel strange, happy or sad. Because it was a secret communication between both of you. A big part of his feelings slowly emerged from the subtle changes in that smile. You saw it as indifferent... or as an amused smirk most of the time.. But there were times where you could somehow see something else. A shy tenderness?

Maybe you took your dreams for the reality you had wished for... for so long. Whatever. You saw it. You trusted it then, and you still do trust that what you saw and took for the truth actually was what had to be seen and taken for the truth. Sigh... Eyh, what the hell! You loved him! And you need nobody to tell you what his own feelings were.

Or, to be true, the person who could have told you has died long ago. It was your sister, and she died by his hands. And it took you a long time to admit that your love for this man was so strong it couldn't be erased, even by such a tragedy.

You had wanted revenge. You had wanted to let your tears disappear, mixed with his own blood. But what you wanted the most was... himself. His look stuck on you, his full attention concentrated on yourself and no one else.

You wanted to be more, a lot more to him than a simple disturbance requiring no care...

Think about that. If you were to be loving a killer. While you are trying to help the Dead and the Living, with your poor useless powers. He is a killer and you don't know it. You just don't know...? Truth is : you just don't care. He kills people and you love him. He killed your beloved twin sister and you love him! He is the cherry tree tomb keeper, the most dreadful enemy of your family. And you love him. Wouldn't it drive you crazy?

Besides he pretended to love you. So nice. So gentle. So vicious. He lied. Oh did he? Really, whatever was in his mind when he said this "I love you", nobody will never know. Except you, as he thought you could understand. Maybe. Or maybe he thought you wouldn't understand and so that's why he finally said it. What a complicated person.

You wonder how far you can be from the truth, with all that thinking. But you can't say what you really have in mind because if you put your thoughts into words your heart will blow up with a painfully sad happiness.

You suddenly want to see his eye, but the mirror doesn't seem to agree. Because it's not his eye that is crying but both of yours. With all the reflected feelings emerging from this emerald-amber look. Your hand is shyly touching the soft coldness of your own face in the mirror. You want to break this mirror -you want to kiss this eye-. You turn back. You feel tired.