Title: When I Cry
Author: Tayler (mizhellfire, 1truelove)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Notes: This was my attempt at writing something cheerful. I failed miserably and it ended up being emotional. This isn't my usual writing style because this wasn't originally intended to be fan fiction. I wrote the first half of it because I needed to vent about my own personal feelings. It got to a point where it needed to end somewhat decently so that I could feel slightly better and I decided to make it into a short Smallville fic. Please tell me what you think. I love reviews!
When I Cry
My whole life I've always been able to keep my emotions under lock and key. It has been the only way I've been able to survive my hectic and trying life. You can't show your emotions or they'll find a way to use them against you. Crying is a weakness. I can never afford to be seen as weak. People take advantage of the weak and fragile. I can't stand being taken advantage of. I refuse to let it happen. Therefore, I refuse to let myself cry.
There have been a few times where I've slipped. A few brief moments of exposure. It was in those moments of complete nakedness that I felt a feeling worse than sadness. It was a feeling of complete self-loathing that only proceeded to make me want to cry more. I knew that every time I cried that I was letting someone down. I was expected to be strong. I was the rock upon which everyone could rely. I was always needed because I could handle everyone else's problems without the tiniest hint of fatigue.
People take for granted those who never seem to tire. They use them for their own personal gain and then leave them lost in the dust. I was constantly left behind or pulled away from anything and everything that I ever dreamed of doing. Every time I would get close to that glimmer of self-accomplishment and happiness, it would be pulled away from me by "circumstances beyond my control." It was sickening to me that while I strived to be strong for everyone else, no one could find the time to be strong for me.
I feel so lonely and lost sometimes. I fall upon the few reliable things in my life and even they aren't very reliable. I could talk to my cousin, but she has so much potential in this world that she doesn't need to be burdened with her older cousin's problems. It isn't like I could ever talk to my other remaining family members. They are always so busy and so far away in both the physical and emotional sense.
There are nights just like tonight when I realize that there's a chance that things will always be this way. My life may never change and I will always be stuck being strong so that everyone else can make their dreams come true. I fight the acceptance of that inevitability. I don't want to accept that. I will fight like hell before I let that be my destiny. I'm sick and tired of others making decisions for me. I want my life to be what I design it to be. I know the risks and I'm prepared to take them. I'm tired of being told that I have to accept the possibility of failure. I, the strong, supportive one never inflicted them with self doubt as they made their way up the ladder to their goals and dreams. I never once made them doubt their hopes of a better future.
The times where my strength wanes, I do things I regret. I put on my "hell with them" attitude and let myself have a moment of freedom. I let out the girl who is tired of keeping her emotions trapped inside of the vault in her heart. I act out against the world that always seems to put me down. I go wild and throw caution to the wind. That is how I got that reputation as the wild child partier. That is how I became the solid and strong girl who could still manage to let loose and drink my troubles away. That is how I got in trouble. It was all some stupid act of teenage rebellion.
Rebellion was so much better than the inner-torment I had been dealing with. So what if people raised their eyebrows in confusion. I didn't care if they felt I had made the wrong decision. What gave them the right to judge me that way? Sarcasm quickly became my new defense mechanism. I was now the strong emotional void, which rebelled and was able to keep others from prying into my emotional emptiness by using harsh sarcasm and the brutal truth. I was able to keep everyone at that safe determined distance far away from my heart. No one was able to get close enough, so no one was able to hurt me.
I still found myself clinging to the role of guardian. I felt that I was responsible for making sure that my "loved ones" never got hurt or in any trouble of their own. I failed miserably at it so many times and usually all the blame fell on my shoulders. I was still the rock for all of the blame to crash upon. It was my self-appointed title.
It was my unending need to look after the few that I still managed care about that got me in this mess in the first place. If I would have just stayed out of it, all of this trouble wouldn't have happened. It's all my entire fault. More blame for me.
Now I have these nights where my self-doubt increases and my resistance decreases. My keen ability for keeping myself and my emotions hidden falters and I go sprawling to the floor in a clumsy heap of depression. These are the nights when I cry.
When I cry I make sure no one else can see me. I still have to keep my pride intact and that would be completely impossible if someone happened to witness my downfall. I must always hide my weaknesses. No one can see me bleed the tears of sorrow and pain. I remain in a shroud of my thickest defense. I remain cloaked in my ability to keep the prying eyes far away. Even the people that I have become close to during my stay here are safely at that desired distance. They're all off having the time of their lives at some quaint little gathering, completely oblivious to my agony. This is the life that I have made for myself. I suffer alone with my broken heart so no one can see me cry. They won't be home for hours and by that time I will be completely composed as if nothing had ever happened.
When I cry I am finally able to feel the pain that has been bottled up inside of me for so long. I am finally able to vent these hidden emotions and set them free in hopes that they will never return to haunt me again. My hopes are in vain, but it feels good to have that small hope.
As I stand crying at the window, staring out at the country landscape and the bright stars shining down on me from the midnight sky, I hear a noise that rips me away from my hopes of freedom. Someone has stumbled into my hidden moment of weakness. It is my fault that this has happened. I should never have come here to his place of isolation to vent my hidden pain. I was practically asking to be discovered. How stupid of me.
I spin around to find who has disrupted me. It is him. It is the one person who has been able to come farther past my defenses than anyone else. It is the person whom I sometimes hate, and yet I can't stop thinking about. We can't go one minute without fighting, but I still find him to be my best friend. If anyone were to catch me at this weak moment he is the last person I would want it to be. He can't see me like this. I can't let him think that I am weak. I care about him far too much. That is why as I turn, I frantically wipe the tears from my eyes.
He stares at me wide-eyed in consternation. He has never seen me cry before. No one has seen me cry before. I guard my secrets well. He approaches me with an odd expression on his face. It is one I have never seen before. I have grown accustomed to the warm looks of friendship and the irritated looks he gives me during our playful banter. This look is one I find hard to recognize. It is so completely foreign to me. I see actual love in his blue eyes. Love directed at me. I must be going blind. I'm weak, he can't possibly love me.
He finally gets within a few inches of my face and I look at him guiltily. He was never supposed to see me crying this way. No one was ever supposed to see me cry. I cry alone. He lifts my chin up so that I can't help but gaze into his eyes. His eyes are now filled with both love and concern. He wants to say something. I know it. He wants to say something supportive and I will hate him forever if he does. I don't need his support. I don't want support because that would mean that I'm not able to stand on my own.
Instead, he surprises me. He says one word and that is all I need.
"Lois," he whispers in a foreign voice.
"Clark," I whisper back in a voice that I never heard escape my lips before. It actually sounded like I needed him.
Before I could rebuild the walls that I had carelessly let down, he kisses me. He kisses me with such passion that I can't resist it. I deepen the kiss and feel my heart for the first time in my entire life. I release the love that I have hidden from him for so long. I feel his warm fingers on my cheeks and I never want to leave this moment. I know that from now on things will be different. I know that from now on, I will never feel so lost and alone. I will never be defeated again. I am loved. I know that from now on he will always be here with me when I cry.
The End