How soft a whisper can get
When you're walking through a crowded space
I hear every word being said
And I remember that everyday
I get a little bit closer to you
A Jedi shall not know anger.
Nor hatred.
Nor love.
But I was different, special...defective, somehow. Perhaps it was because I was the Chosen One. Or maybe because I had something my Jedi brothers lacked--a true upbringing with a mother who loved me. I had something from which to gauge my current existance, to remember I had once been a regular little boy. It contrasted the good from the bad, the light from the dark.
Something I loved. Missed. Needed.
There were times I longed for my mother, and there was no denying it. All the Jedi training in the Force could not erase that part of myself. I thought it would forever ache and subdue me, a black hole in my existance, before I knew Padme.
Only she filled and stabilized that emptiness, and I had found balance.
We both had, but only in the presence of each other.
She became my angel when she entered that store on Tatooine, forever. When I saw her again ten years later, all beings in the room fell away and it was just the two of us, a connection through an invisible symbiotic bond, suspended for just a moment. Still. Powerful. Complete.
Did she know what I knew in that moment?
We would later share the same connection, meld through the Force, just the two of us, in a crowded room. Separated but not alone. Seeing only each other.
How long an hour can take
When you're staring into open space
When I feel I'm slipping further away
I remember that everyday
I get a little bit closer to you
The Clone Wars had started.
I could tell Padme over and over that the war was close to an end, a desperate assurance. But if I was honest with myself, I knew that it would stretch on forever, a presence extending to the Outer Rim territories that would strip families of their loved ones, erode the hope of innocent beings, and seal a galaxy's fate. Little by little.
I was never very good at lying to myself.
Every warrior, every Jedi I served with fought honorably, and I wondered if they ever questioned their role in it like I did. Perhaps they would die, and be satisfied with the knowledge that they had done their part, however small. Their life had somehow been worth the sacrifice, their very self slipping into anonymity like every troop before them and all those that would come after.
It wasn't enough for me. So I lied to myself.
I had to or I would unravel, here in foreign lands, witnessing unimaginable horrors, without any control over my life. I told myself it was a good cause we were fighting, that the separation from my mother, and then my angel, was worth the war.
You see, I had to justify my existence somehow.
These are the days
That I won't get back
I won't hear you cry
Or hear you laugh
And when it's quiet
And I don't hear a thing
I can always hear you breathe
I'm still now, in the quiet and the darkness. Forever isolated, set apart. Beings do not see beyond the armor, or know if I am human at all, and it terrifies them. They fear the unknown.
I am respected, powerful, and wealthy. Finally, I am recognized as the most powerful knight in the galaxy. My will is unleashed, and I'm free to do whatever I want.
It is a a hollow reward.
I can still remember my mother's soft hands...Obi-Wan's laughter...Padme's triumphant smile. Memories resurface and threaten to break me-the smell of Padme's hair, the feel of her tears saturating my shirt before a separation. All images, shattered but precious fragments that torment my mind.
Ironic how a memory can bring such joy and pain at the same time.
I live every day with the fruits of my sins, my past life growing more obscure. I want it that way, because now, there is nothing I can do to change the past, to take it back.
The Emperor once told me the dark side of the Force would be the only companion I would need. So I follow him, willingly, leaving behind the good man that was Anakin Skywalker. Anakin had a purpose in life, and a hope. A brother who watched his back, a wife who loved and missed him. I have none of that, not now, I know only the cold and numbing solace of the dark side.
I embrace it.
I embrace it because, in the end, the darkness understands, and accepts, and forgives what I've done. Here I can hide from my transgressions, and maybe if I descend far enough I can reach the point where I no longer feel anything and it won't matter, anymore.
And still, I never found peace, the stable rock bottom I had been seeking, my own vantage point from which to view humanity. Eventually I realize, the final cruelty of the Sith--there is no freedom and no ground.
You just keep falling.
Grief, rage; these are my familiar companions, and they visit me once again, seeking an easy target. I could blame Obi-Wan, or even my Master now, for the injustice of my situation, because I wouldn't be lying if I said I hated them.
But there is someone I hate more.
Myself.
You know there's nowhere else I've wanted to be
Than be there when you needed me
I'm sorry too but don't give up on me
And just remember that when you were asleep
I got a little bit closer to you
Machines surround me, affix my dark armor until the fragment of a weak man becomes a powerful machine, a whole. Years have passed and I've perfected repressing my former life, the man once known as Anakin Skywalker. The Sith is all I have, my reason for moving forward, and I'm convinced that it is justice, however twisted.
I still can't be honest with myself.
But there are memories of angels, places even the Sith can't touch. I crushed Anakin, willed his very existance away, but in my sleep, my subconscious betrays me. Here I see Padme, and I don't have to see myself, the monster and machine I've become. The love and forgiveness reflects in her eyes, and I am desperately drawn to it. It is what the dark side promises but never delivers, with warmth, revisited, more. In these brief instances, I'm complete.
I remember, and it hurts, if only because I know it won't last.
Contrast.
I am Anakin again, and the feelings surge forward. She still believes in me, and awakens emotions long forgotten. There's nothing I'd rather be now than her husband and protector, never reminded I am the very reason her light was extinguished from the galaxy. During these moments, she loves and accepts me, and we're as close as in life, unknown where one of us ends and the other begins.
I can feel the sleep receding and my duty calling, a darkness, a cold breath. She says we'll meet again, that there is another who believes in me, loves me, who will guide me back.
I want to believe her, but finally, reluctantly, turn away.
There is no hope for me.
Sometimes dreams are just dreams.