Final Fantasy VII and its characters are copyright Squaresoft. The poem titled "Left Behind" is by Elizabeth Akers Allen (1832-1911), it is also not mine. Rated PG. Much angstyness.
"Here's a toast, to all those who hear me all too well." -Eve 6
It was the autumn of the year;
The strawberry-leaves were red and sere;
October's airs were fresh and chill,
When, pausing on the windy hill,
The hill that overlooks the sea,
You talked confidingly to me, -
Me whom your keen, artistic sight
Has not yet learned to read aright,
Since I have veiled my heart from you,
And loved you better than you knew.
The last of the patrons made their way clumsily stumbling out the doors as she followed them to point them in the right direction. She smiled and waved as they thanked her for her hospitality. She was always the one to hear their problems with a sympathetic ear. Everyone's problems. Her smile faded. They were hers to repair and mend with kind and optimistic words that flowed like a fountain from her lips. She had to give them away. They couldn't comfort her anymore. The only person who she thought possibly could, wasn't there. She didn't know where he was anymore. He was always gone. He would surprise her on occasion stepping through her doors with a smile on his face. He would confide in her about everything, telling her his deepest thoughts and secrets, what he'd seen, what he experienced. And then would leave again on some great journey, leaving her far behind with only alcohol and the reflections of memories shimmering off a wall of shot glasses. Not that the alcohol ever gave her much comfort. She didn't care for it all that much. It always tasted so sour.
You told me of your toilsome past;
The tardy honors won at last,
The trials borne, the conquests gained,
The longed-for boon of Fame attained;
I knew that every victory
But lifted you away from me,
That every step of high emprise
But left me lowlier in your eyes;
I watched the distance as it grew,
And loved you better than you knew.
It wasn't always this way. Things were different a year ago. After their struggle with the planet they became closer than she thought possible. Enjoying each other's company, finding peace for once in this little town by the seashore. Time changes things though, and pretty soon a mercenary gets itchy feet. The proclaimed "savior of the world" was whisked from one challenge to another, wearing the burdens of the world on his shoulders once more. She could have gone with him she supposed. But she was so tired of fighting, of holding the fate of lives in your hands. Fate was such a fickle thing. She didn't like to exchange blows with it anymore. It hurt too much. Hitting her like a sucker punch to the gut. She chose to be selfish.
You did not see the bitter trace
Of anguish sweep across my face;
You did not hear my proud heart beat,
Heavy and slow, beneath your feet;
You thought of triumphs still unwon,
Of glorious deeds as yet undone;
And I, the while you talked to me,
I watched the gulls float lonesomely,
Till lost amid the hungry blue,
And loved you better than you knew.
So she opened a little bar on the outskirts of town. Not because it was her dream job, it was the only job she ever had. The only thing she felt qualified for. She offered a haven for the weary, the addicted, and the broken hearted. It was where she belonged. Had he stayed with her, perhaps she could have told him how she felt. Perhaps he would have listened. Perhaps he would have put away his sword for something simpler. Perhaps it would have made a difference if she could have told him sooner. Perhaps. But he had goals to obtain now. He had lives to save. And he was unknowingly ending hers. It's hard holding a smile while your dying inside. The optimism that held her together for so many years had grown fainter with time. What she had now was a counterfeit. A plastic smile and a pat on the back, that's all she had to offer. And it seemed to suffice for the most part. She was too proud to let anyone see her on this downward spiral. She refused to be a burden. Her façade seemed to suffice those around her. Even her old friends who stopped by on occasion saw that pleasant girl they had known before. Cid, Barret, Yuffie, they were all convinced of how well she was doing.
"That Tifa, nothing can ever get her down."
No, it couldn't, she had already hit rock bottom.
You walk the sunny side of fate;
The wise world smiles, and calls you great;
The golden fruitage of success
Drops at your feet in plenteousness;
And you have blessings manifold: -
Renown and power and friends and gold, -
They build a wall between us twain,
Which may not be thrown down again,
Alas! for I, the long years through,
Have loved you better than you knew.
He came by less and less now. And when he did he was always bombarded with the people who had a million questions and a million praises to shower on him. He seemed to enjoy it. He would smile and laugh. And she was happy for him. He deserved it for all the hell that he'd been put through. But she could never push through the crowds to see his face. And he would vanish from her life again. She never had a chance to tell him. Never had a chance to lay her heart at his feet. Countless times she merely held her breath. And smiled.
Your life's proud aim, your art's high truth,
Have kept the promise of your youth;
And while you won the crown, which now
Breaks into bloom upon your brow,
My soul cried strongly out to you
Across the ocean's yearning blue,
While, unremembered and afar,
I watched you, as I watch a star
Through darkness struggling into view,
And loved you better than you knew.
What could she possibly offer him? She didn't know. He had everything now, he had achieved his dreams that he shared with her that night at the well. Where did she fit? She was a puzzle piece that didn't connect. That angered her. She slammed the shot glass she was cleaning against the bar, and it shattered in her hand. The blood flowed from the crevices of her clenched fist. It ebbed into a pool on the shining surface of the counter top. She squeezed her hand against the shards of glass. There was no pain. No tears. She was completely numb. What was life if you couldn't feel pain anymore? She made her way through the empty chairs and tables trailing her own blood behind her, soaking into the wooden cracks of the floor.
I used to dream in all these years
Of patient faith and silent tears,
That Love's strong hand would put aside
The barriers of place and pride,
Would reach the pathless darkness through,
And draw me softly up to you;
But that is past. If you should stray
Beside my grave, some future day,
Perchance the violets o'er my dust
Will half betray their buried trust,
And say, their blue eyes full of dew,
"She loved you better than you knew."
She swung the door open and ran. The moon reflected itself off her hair as she came down to the beach, stumbling against the thickness of the sand. She stopped just in front of the tides that continued on relentlessly unaware of anything. The waters moved upon the shore and licked her ankles. She stared into the distance of the vast ocean, silently wondering how far she could swim before she sunk into its depths forever. Perhaps she would learn to be as unforgiving and numb as the sea. She wouldn't have to feel anymore. She took a step forward, the blood now spreading itself down her leg and onto the wet sand. She felt a hand place itself on her shoulder. She turned. The moon just barely highlighted his features. A pair of eyes stared back at her in the darkness. Eyes that shimmered with emotion and showed a world of concern. Just for her. Suddenly, the pain returned. Shot through her like an electric jolt. She sank to her knees there by the shoreline, and cried.
