What to say about this one-shot... How about, this is what comes of me being completely exhausted and half delirious from a nasty toothache. This week has been one for the books - a week straight from the pits of hell. lol If you don't believe me, ask Nicole4211. She's been theoretically holding my hand all week.
Now, don't expect too much - this was really just a brain dump from all the drama. So forgive me if it sucks donkey balls or makes no more sense than a horse riding a chicken. lol This came from my new song addiction "Torn To Pieces" by Pop Evil.
Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail.
TORN TO PIECES
He sits there, staring at the ceiling in utter silence. His heart sluggish in his chest, he waits for something to happen, for some sign that she's returned, but the quiet remains as the minutes tick by.
He feels as if he's standing on the edge of a cliff, a storm raging around him, the skies dark and gray. There is endless night, the world surrounding him empty of all light. It seems she's taken it with her when she walked out of his life, and he knows it will be that way until she comes back.
A long sigh is the only sound in the apartment as he stands to his feet and makes his way to the bedroom. He pauses in the door, his steps faltering as he catches a glimpse of her sprawled out on the bed. In an instant, she disappears, and he realizes that the vision was only his imagination. The hope in that moment catches him off guard, and he draws in a sharp breath.
For a moment, he fights to tread water, his head struggling to stay above water as the waves of despair crash down on him, and then it becomes too much. He sinks into the black depths of misery.
It's too much to take, too many memories to swim through in that room, so he moves on to the den. He sits in the armchair and drops his head into his hands. He feels broken without her, lost in this world of pain and wishing with all he had that she was still here. He longs for this to be a dream, some nightmare he can wake up from, but time marches on and still, he's alone.
He can't help but wonder if things could have been different. Would she have stayed if he had been better? Then again, he's never been good at change. Even knowing she needed more from him, he'd never been half the man she wanted him to be.
The hopelessness of his situation hits him, and suddenly he finds it hard to breathe. Why'd she have to leave? If she had only loved him the way he was, they wouldn't be in this mess. He wouldn't be sitting here feeling torn apart. Why wasn't he good enough?
But that's not fair to her. He knows he wasn't what he should have been, and he's gotten everything he deserved. Karma has come to settle the score.
He looks up and sees her sitting on the couch across from him, her legs curled beneath her and that smile he loves so much curling her lips. She seems so real, he almost reaches out to her, but reality hits him with the cold truth and his hand falls to his leg.
He's pathetic, hoping for things that will never happen. He knows she's not coming back. She made that perfectly clear when she walked out. She was done with him, with their life, with his love, and he has to find a way to get that through his thick skull.
But he can't stop thinking about her, about all the things he always meant to say. The words crowd in his throat now that she's gone, filling him with the bitter knowledge that he'll never have another chance. The dreams they had, the plans they made – it's all washed away.
His mind torments him with pictures of the future they could have had, all the years they could have spent together, and it chokes him to know that it's gone. He'd had it all, and now it was all fading away. No matter how tightly he holds it, it keeps slipping through his fingers. He can't get it back, can't get her back, and it kills him.
Life has come to a standstill for him, while outside the world still spins. It feels wrong somehow. How could things keep going when all that he loved has disappeared? How could the sun still rise the same as it had the day before when she was still here?
His eyes burn with bitter tears, and he lets his lids come down, wishing he could shut out the pain as easily as he shuts down the urge to cry. He keeps his anguish inside, refuses to let it out, because maybe then it'll be real.
He feels so damn empty inside, his heart so hollow it aches. How can he survive such a wound? He should be dead, the damage too great to heal, and yet he's still here. He's locked in this never ending pool of agony, and he has no idea how he'll ever get out.
Maybe he never will. Maybe he'll slowly perish, his body fading a little at a time until it caught up with his shattered soul. He's not sure he can handle it, not sure he's strong enough to bear day after day of this misery. He needs her, aches to hear her voice one more time. He wishes for one more day with her, but he's not a fool. It would never be enough. He'd be left wanting for one more.
But it didn't matter. He was never going to get that, not one day, not a hundred. She's long gone, and his heart stepped right out with her. He'd given her everything he had, and when she walked away, she'd left behind only shell of a man.
If only she'd taken his mind as well. Then maybe he wouldn't know what he'd lost. Maybe he wouldn't give a damn anymore.
He found himself longing for insanity. To see her every moment and have no idea she wasn't real. He could pretend, go through life imagining she had never abandoned him. In his delusion, they could be happy, together until the day he died.
But as he opened his eyes, hope ringing in his being, he saw not even a flicker of her beautiful face. Pain struck his chest, and his jaw clenched. It seemed even his mind was determined to punish him for being less than she deserved.
There would be no hiding from his deficiencies. He would be forced to live with the knowledge of everything he'd lost, and every day, he would die a little more inside. There was no surviving this. A kill shot of this magnitude wasn't one he was likely to recover from, and he was slowly coming to accept that.
His future was set in stone, a long lingering journey of bleakness. It stretched before him like some backroad to nowhere, and he the fool condemned to travel it alone.
Maybe one day, he would find peace. Perhaps when death came to claim him... Until then, he would live out his time in penance for all the things he'd done wrong, for all the ways he'd let her down. Each day without her would be his prison, each breath the bars that hold him trapped as he pays for his sins.
Maybe he would see her again. When his time was up and the marks against him payed for...maybe then it would be enough.
