This is sort of a sequel to Saving Each Other. I love this ship (Gosabi) so much. GoGo and Wasabi are both very flawed people, so I want to write about and explore their process of helping each other and building each other up. I hope you like this ship as much as I do. I hope you enjoy!
Messy. If there was a word to describe what my life without Wasabi would be like, messy would be that word. To begin with, he's a psycho. I can't let him into my apartment anymore because he labels everything. I fully support his need for organization, I know he can't control it, but my space needs to be my space. And my space isn't exactly put together.
The reason I can't meet Wasabi's standards of order are the same reasons he can't meet my standards of disorder. I just can't do it. Psychologically, I can't focus long enough to be tidy, just like he can't relax long enough to be untidy. Because my environment isn't important to me. Wasabi can't work if things aren't pristine but that's not what I value in a workspace. I value efficiency and speed. I save my need for perfection for my own work, and I do not settle for second best.
Wasabi has this joke that I hate. He says that I won't settle when it comes to my projects, but that I'll settle for him. Wasabi could organize and scrub until the whole world was aesthetically perfect, but he would still always find some flaws in himself. Wasabi, who is a brilliant engineer, thinks he's broken beyond repair. I hate that. I hate that he doesn't think he's good enough for me, and I hate even more that he's willing to give up on himself.
But I'm not willing to give up on him. I don't really give up on things. Not on people, or projects, or myself. Other people have given up on me, and that's fine, but I won't give up on myself or on the people I care about. Even if I don't always know how to express my care for them. I'm not like Honey Lemon, I'm not good with affection. Sometimes I even push Wasabi away because I don't always know how to show him that I care. But I do care about him, I do love him... I'm doing my best.
He doesn't know how much I need him. With his fears and flaws, he thinks that he needs me more than I could ever possibly need him. But that's crazy... It's not like he doesn't know I have flaws, he can see my faults better than anyone else. He knows I have quirks that drive him a little insane, I have quirks that drive me insane! I know that I'm stubborn and sometimes I'm mean and distant. I know that I'm not perfect, I need help. I need someone to balance me out. And more often than not, that someone is him. I've always scoffed at couples who toss around the phrase, "My better half." Always, until I started dating Wasabi. Because that phrase finally feels true. It finally feels like someone... Completes me.
It's so horrible to say... So incredibly cheesy! But it's true. We work together, maybe not perfectly, but that's better. Because people like us need to learn that it's okay to not be perfect. Because trying to be perfect... That's what broke us in the first place. With every new expectation, we cracked a little more. So, maybe Wasabi is right. Maybe it's impossible to get back unbroken Wasabi, and maybe I'll always have a few dents. But we can fix ourselves by making something new. Something better. Something that's our own form of perfect.
But he can't see it. Not like I can. He's not content in his brokenness, but he's certainly despondent in it. I can't reach him when it comes to this. I try so hard to reach him over his flaws and fears, and sometimes he looks up, sometimes he hears me, sees me instead of all that he's afraid of. But lately, it's like I'm not there. Like he wants to fight alone, and he's failing.
I can't watch him fail anymore. It's too painful. I at least won't let him fail alone. He might refuse me, but I'm going to keep trying to save him. I don't give up on people, even when they've given up on themselves. Even when they think that they're not worth believing in. I'm going to save him. It's never too late. It can't be too late. I'm going to save him, or we'll fail together. Because that's what we do. We save people. We can save each other too. He's already done more for me than he'll ever know. Already made me more than I was before, already taught me that it's okay to not be perfect. I'm afraid that I can't do the same for him, but I keep trying. Because he's worth it.
I don't try to save him in big flashy ways. I know that that's not what he needs. Sometimes it's just a look we share over breakfast with our friends. Sometimes it's reaching out a hand and calming his fears, helping him see that it's not as big or bad as he believes. Sometimes, when he's petrified, he won't open his eyes, won't reach out for me, won't see that it's okay. But I'll be there anyway, talking him through it anyway. Letting him take his time to come to terms with whatever has him terrified while making sure he knows he's not alone. Even if it takes a long time, even if it takes forever, I'm not going to give up on him. I'm just going to keep reaching out until he knows I'm too stubborn to leave. Until he knows that I don't give up.