Good mornin'. I'm tired.
Disclaimer: I don't own Vocaloid.
Sunshine and Something Resembling It
I don't know to what extent you know it, but I look up to you.
I always have, ever since you first smiled at me when it was just you and me in the living room that one day not long after I joined here, and I most likely always will.
On the outside, we all know that you're not the friendliest person, but I think otherwise. Because while others looked at me with contempt for being some kind of Ranka Lee imitator (whoever that was!) you happened to be there next to me, remarking about how you were usually overlooked and wondered what it was like on the other side of the fence.
As it were, the others warmed up to me really quickly, but you liked me first. Because even though you don't show it on the outside, we (I, at least) know you truly are a caring, kind person (who just happens to have a few undesirable habits). I know this because on the few occasions I had seen you smile when I first met you, they were bright and genuine and generally inexplicable, and, like sunshine, bringing life. And I wanted to see (and feel) more of that.
So I made sure that every time you came home from a studio, running an errand, or just having a good time somewhere, I was waiting for you to come home. And when you did, no matter what your expression or body language displayed, I put on my widest (and sincerest) smile and waited for you to say the few words that had now become routine: "What's up, kiddo?"
"Nothin'!" I would always chirp happily, same as always, then peer out the window. "It's nice outside today, isn't it?" And alternatively, if it was nighttime, something like, "The moon is so beautiful tonight. Isn't it?" (You never quite got what I meant by that, but I guess it was for the better.)
And if it was a good day, your answer was always the same: a nod, then the words, "You're right. You know? It really is nice, but I guess I've come to expect that." And then you would smile knowingly, lightheartedly mocking our routine, 100% of the time, mirroring my wide grin (but not as wide as mine ever was; I wasn't sure how you felt, really, and still am not), and my heart melted, 100% of the time.
You weren't always happy, though; we all knew it, but it was no problem for me other than a bit more work. You'd speak the same words ("What's up, kiddo?") with a (usually undetectable) hint of a sigh in your voice, and no matter how hard you tried to hide it, I always knew when it was there. Sometimes it was because of gloomy weather; sometimes it was just one of those days.
"Nothin'!" I'd chirp, same as ever, and turn to face the window, (and I always drew back the curtains, no matter the weather). "The sky is sad," I'd say. "I think it's just one of those days, and I think it'd prefer if you weren't upset. Right?" Pretty silly, but it still made you smile (and wider if you hadn't realized you'd felt a bit off). Or maybe it was something like, "The rain is so wonderful! It not only brings life, but also brings a smile to my face! And yours too, right?" And that always got you to smile, of course; if the sun didn't feel like coming out on its own, I think the sight of your (and my) smile was bright enough on its own.
"You're right. You know? The rain ain't so bad, after all," you'd say, or alternatively, "You're right. You know? Maybe I should smile more, huh?" Then you'd smile wider and either leave me be, or (preferably) join me in sitting idly on the couch, especially if it was just one of those days.
Those days which, seemingly coincidentally, appeared to come around with the end of October. Remembering a conversation from last year, I asked you (for a change), "What's up?" after noticing the somewhat disappointed, tired look on your face. You turned to me, smiling sadly for a fraction of a second, then mustered up a laugh.
"I'll be twenty-four soon," you said. "A year away from being deemed a Christmas cake." I frowned and rapidly shook my head, but you just shrugged. "It's not as if I care, anyway," you told me. "Everyone's so happy with their significant other, and it kinda sickens me." I heard hints of sarcasm in your voice. "Myself, I just prefer to be considered a lone wolf. I have all the friend I need in booze!" Here you paused. "Well, you, and booze. You rank higher than the booze in my book, kiddo!" you said, patting me on the head. (I think that was probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. Isn't that funny? I guess it depended on from whom it was coming.) "What happened to you and Gakupo-san, anyway?" you asked me. "I thought you two had a thing going on, or am I just out of the loop now?" You laughed.
"I think he's still chasing after Luka-neesan now," I said. "It's okay! I'm not sure he even liked me at first, though, even if I'm friends with everyone now. He wasn't the person I thought he was at first. It wasn't really worth it," I shrugged. In actuality, I had had a bit of a huge crush on him a while back, but once I realized he wasn't as cool as I'd thought (and that he'd liked Luka [and that I'd actually already liked someone else at the time]) I gave up on it, a smile never leaving my face. Because that would be uncharacteristic for the one who was all smiles, all the time! "Ah!" I blurted apologetically, "I'm sorry to trouble you with all that!"
"It's OK." You paused, smiling and apparently realizing something. "You're lonely and I'm lonely. But, together, we're lonely together."
Ain't that the truth.
Except when I'm with you, the last thing I am is lonely for sure. And the last thing I want to be is lonely, and the last thing I want you to be is lonely. Especially around me. Confusing enough?
Anyway, know that no matter what, someone loves you. Maybe even more than just someone.
I say this because I know one of those people. Know 'em just like I know my own self . . . Anyway.
All of us love you, and all of us look up to you. Know that; always know that, no matter where you find yourself.
You know, the thing about holidays is that it's completely meaningless if you wish a happy one unto someone a day early or a day late. It's like, "I can't be bothered to remember on your actual birthday, so happy early birthday!" Alternatively, "I couldn't be bothered to remember you on your actual birthday, so happy belated birthday!" It's kind of ridiculous.
It's the fifth of November. It's been 498 days since I first met you.
Happy birthday, Meiko-san.
Find the Futurama reference and you win a cookie. God, I am such a dork.
I love this pairing, but then again I pretty much ship Meiko with everyone. I like the idea of them being lonely together. Sob.
Happy birthday, Meiko! ;o;