Heart of the Matter

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I've been writing you for quite some time. You never reply, but I know you've been hearing me.

I didn't know where to send my letters at first. I tried leaving them under the wildest black tree in the forest, where not even the moonlight dares to go. I felt that you'd still be in there, in the shadows, watching me, and knowing. But the Earth was far too isolated there, and I saw that you'd be life and light... Because that's what you were at the end—you were glowing... I put my letters where you might find them, in some crowded, color-streaked city. I didn't mind if someone else found them, because what did I have to hide? Yet even there, I felt nothing.

But one day, a soft, contemplative sort of day, I went down to the beach and bore my letters out into the Ocean. Oh, to read that word back to myself! It still leaves even me breathless—the Ocean. We are both connected through it to him. And then I knew that you could hear me, and sometimes I wonder why this is. But the conclusions I come to leave me in such a bitter state, I can hardly speak to myself for days afterward...

Sometimes the things I ponder hurt me so. Oh, but I must face confrontation...!

I can hardly control these emotions of mine... I don't know when it began, this obsession—I hope against all hope it will never end. But to know that he will never truly be mine... You know, , I'm quite a selfish girl. What happens to the sweet and innocent lady when a young man enters her thoughts? Yet he makes me feel such pleasure. I used to just stand back and absorb his presence... Just empty enough to want to curl up in, just whole enough to want to hold. But I'm sure you know that, you who are so linked to him.

You remember the battle in that red-streaked world, with that child dripping pain and blood and evil. There, he killed me and you, and saved us all. That day we were both freed, you from your delusions, and I from... my heritage. But I know what cannot be... As I stood there and watched, he looked at you, and I could not—still, cannot describe my distress. I knew in that moment that he could never be entirely mine, because a part of his ruined heart would belong to you.

When I first fell in love with him I felt such an uplifting of myself, gazing into his soul, feeling his warmth in the blue night. Was it so for you as well? But then, my delight in him seemed to degenerate into an insatiable need to make him mine. I've had him in my arms before, did you know that? I imagine you must have known his embrace, too. Isn't it wonderful? It's like he's been searching all his life for you, like in each precious second he's telling you:

"I've found you at last, now
control me"

And if you love him for what he was, I'll love him a thousand times deeper for what we could have been—

I... realize that with each stroke of this pen, I am skirting the purpose of my letter and its heart.

...That night after the Spirit departed, when we had all been reunited, I first began to believe that I could live without having him. I was determined to see myself independent, of him and the Child. I had seen you with him many times, and I felt you in those rippling shadows... but neither of us could be satisfied with that. Because we knew he loved both of us, and we are girls who, no matter how nice we may appear, will manipulate to obtain our desires. You have done it... and I will deny nothing.

But then... I left. I still don't know for certain how, or why. Was I truly being kind to you, or was it another twisted machination? Make him miss me, make him forget her and remember my love... M I N E/ / / /

I don't know. Ah, but I've been saying that so often lately!

Maybe I can survive without him...

But if that is so, if I am to betray myself, , tell me how he is. When I come in the wind, when I blow through the open windows to watch as he kisses you, will you tell me? I'll be everywhere waiting for your answer. I'll be a vial of poison if I find that he is not well. I'll be the rain if I find he's unhappy. I'll be a lost child if he's finally let go of my piece of his heart...

And if you have all of him, then love him so thoroughly and without inhibition or hesitation that... I can be you.

There. That is my heart.

I am conceding...

So even as these lost letters, scattered as they are across the flesh of the Earth finally begin to rot and scab over, never forget!—I've touched him face, felt his mouth, his lips. I—this innocent girl-child—have felt love and passion, lust even. I still want him more than life itself, but I'll find a way to live. Or perhaps I should die again—

Just say his name at your window, .

I promise you, I will be the rain against the glass when you do.

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A/N: If you think you've seen this before, you probably have. This was originally posted on my other account, but OCD forced me to move it over here. Now my BK fics are all in one place! I couldn't help but clean this up a little bit in the transition, but it is still pretty melodramatic and silly, haha. My style was so embarrassing four years ago... Sigh. Oh, and while this was originally supposed to be able to be read from either Melodia or Xelha's POV, it's been edited to be from Melodia's. Thanks for reading!