I love writing what I think characters might be thinking at some point in their lives, so I suppose this short is Bulma's reflections on her life at some point.
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Here I lie again
PG13
Mad River
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Here I lie again, wallowing in my self pity. Why do I do this to myself? You'd think that by this time I would have had it all figured out, but I don't. I still hang on that proverbial line of indecisiveness. After all these years I still don't know what I want. You would have thought that by now I would have made up my mind but typical of any female I still refuse to see the light… whatever that may be.
I don't know what I want and I don't know what I feel… the worst thing is that is starting to hurt both of us. He used to be optimistic and passionate towards me, but it seems that the heat behind his actions towards me is starting to dwindle. Has he finally decided that he has had enough? I wouldn't blame him if he has. It would be a normal reaction to my aloofness and frigid manner. What man wants a submissive doll? But then again, what man wants a spiteful, yet fiery, bitch? Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
I knew that by changing for him, I would be shaking the very foundations of my being… but I didn't realize just how deep that current would run, and how much it would turn me against myself. I cry alone, I'm lonely. It's funny, the way the heart works. I am constantly surrounded by people… people who love me, and are not scared to show it. But I'm still lonely. I can't help it.
I once told him I didn't know how to be happy… I still don't know how but I want to. Sometimes I spend months before I actually smile from the recesses of my heart and soul.
Oh God, what do I want? The thought will plague me forever. I'm desperate for an answer. I wish someone could tell me but that's another funny thing about me… I'm afraid to speak to anyone about myself… to opening myself to the mercy of another living being, no matter who he is. I feel so helpless and vulnerable, and I hate this feeling.
As I lie curled up on my side, tears sliding down my cheeks in the darkness of my bedroom, I long for someone… anyone to reach out and touch me, not because they see it as a necessity but because they want to.
Who am I fooling? I've driven everyone away, it isn't very likely for anyone to reach out to me again… people can only take so much indifference before they tune you out and deem you as unworthy of their concern any longer. And yet, even though you know that you wanted to be left alone, and their withdrawing is your own doing… you want them to keep trying… not to give up on you. I am so stupid. Ridiculous.
Ah hell, who the fuck am I kidding? This is my life. I will just suck it up and deal with it, as I do with everything else. After all, if I'm not there to kick around anymore, who would bare the brunt of their scorn? I'm everyone's sick little joke, what else could I expect? No one understands me, no one ever has and no one ever will. There just has never been another soul to care enough to look beyond my bitter countenance and actually see that I'm bleeding inside. I'm dying to reach out so someone, to hold on for dear life and never let go. I want someone to comfort me, to love me. I want to feel loved. What do I have to do to be worthy enough?
Lord knows I've tried with all I have to try and reach out, but the attempts always backfire, leaving me shaking and rattled at the intricacy of it all. I'm never going to figure this out. Even worse… I don't think I really want to.
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There you go, what do you think?
Mad River