She knows it was wrong.
So wrong. So very fucking wrong, indeed.
She knows it hurts her, sometimes to the point of physical pain – her body would refuse to respond, sweat would coat her skin like wintertime clothes, and breath would be drained torturously from her lungs.
All at the mere mention of his name.
Hurts hurts hurts so fucking much. How am I still alive?
So why does she keep on doing it?
Stop.
Stop it.
Please.
I said, FUCKING STOP IT!
She smiles sardonically.
No.
There is no stopping it.
No.
Like there is no stopping a shooting star from falling.
NO!
Perhaps that is what she is. What this is.
A shooting star.
So beautiful, magical, enchanting.
Drip.
Drip drip.
Is there no end to these tears?
But despite the elegance, the radiant star still falls to its death.
So dreadful, depressing, tragic.
Tragedy. That is all this is going to lead to.
She knows it. Everyone knows it.
Because a woman must not let herself love a man whose heart will never be hers.
xxx
"Sometimes I wish you'd see me the way I see you.
Think of me what I think of you.
Will you - no
Can you love me like I love you?"
xxx
At night, she cries.
Will it ever stop?
Will my eyes ever dry?
…can I ever be happy again?
Cries for the smiles and laughs she fakes.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
I'm trying.
But I can't seem to stop crying.
Cries for the secrets she could never tell.
I love him, you know? For far too long now.
I said I didn't anymore, but I lied. I'm sorry for that too.
And I'm sorry that I could never tell you.
Cries for the lie she forces herself to live.
I'm happy without him. (Lie.)
It was just a silly crush. (LIE!)
I don't love him anymore. (LIE! LIE! LIE!)
I'm such a fucking liar. (Truth.)
Cries for the love she could never let go of.
It's been what, how many years now?
I lost count already, but…
…you're still all I could ever think of.
Cries for the love she would never receive.
But your heart is not mine.
It never will be.
She falls asleep with tears in her eyes, tracks on her cheeks, marks on her pillow, cracks on her heart, and a silent prayer that tomorrow be easier than it was today.
Because half of his heart is already six feet under and the other half is veiled with black cloaks and red clouds.
A prayer that is never answered.
xxx
"I might hope for the pain to pass
Even just a little bit
But when I rouse
I am still in the same lonely pit."
xxx
She dreams, sometimes.
Of arms holding body, hands caressing skin, lips kissing forehead.
Of I love you's from two voices and forever among the echoes.
She is happy.
Then she wakes, smiles and closes her eyes and pretends all of it is real.
That this dream is the life she is living.
The magic is lost the moment she closes her eyes.
Because she knew right then and there that pretending is all there will ever be.
A tear slips by, unbidden.
Once again, she is miserable.
But she still smiles. Still laughs, still jokes around.
She is still herself.
Because they will notice and they will reprimand her and look at her like she was some –
So heartbreaking.
So miserable.
…pathetic.
– pitiful damsel whose knight in shining armor never came.
A princess who never had a prince in the first place.
A lost soul without its mate.
So she hides.
And imagines that instead of living, she is just dreaming.
xxx
"You are my dream
So why does this feel like my worst nightmare?"
xxx
She is alive, she knows. Sakura can feel the blood running in her veins, if she pays close enough attention.
The same blood he nearly shed when he tried to kill her.
Hear the air that supports her life as it passes through her nostrils.
The same air that was choked from her when his hand wrapped around her neck.
Feel the beating of her heart inside her chest.
Thud
Thud
Thud
Funny.
Even though I gave it to you, you still would not have it.
The very same heart that beat for him.
The very same heart that had bled from the shackles and the barbed wire that encased it, because it was wrong to love a traitor.
The very same heart she thought had died long ago, squeezed of all love for a man who could only take but never give.
Like a rose killed by its own thorns.
Her heart still beats.
So why did she feel like the walking dead?
Sometimes she wishes that it would all just end.
That she just drop dead, for whatever reason.
It felt the same anyway.
At least then, she would have been at peace.
Would he even care?
…would he even notice?
But as soon as the thought comes, it is gone, for she realizes how selfish it must be.
Like him.
As selfish as Sasuke-kun's jet black heart.
Because Naruto is still fighting. Fighting to bring home her Sasuke-kun.
Your Sasuke-kun?
He was never yours to have.
So no matter how hard, she fights too. As much as she is able.
And holds on.
Waiting for the time he is ready to come home.
Waiting for the time he is ready to accept the love they – Team Gai, Team Eight, Team Ten, Kakashi, Naruto… because they are family, and Sakura, because she is Sakura and she is forever doomed to love him – are giving.
Waiting for him.
Waiting for nothing?
Always waiting.
Because she is Sakura, and she is nothing if not patient.
I love you.
But please don't take too long.
…I might try to love myself too.
xxx
"I wish I didn't love him as much as I did – as much as I still do.
Maybe then, at the very least, I'd get to love myself half as much."
xxx
Hic illae lacrimae (latin): hence these tears
A/N: So uhm yeah. I'm back? Sorry for being so sporadic. Anyway, here's another one of my experiments. This is the result of a late night angst fest with me, myself and I, and I admit, is heavily based on my own feelings and experience. I identify with Sakura a little too much, I'm afraid.
R&R!