Part Two:
//I am the girl broken out of stone
You have broken me from stone//
She drove back still depressed but somewhat enlightened. Francie noticed it when she entered the room.
"You're looking a lot better then you were a couple of hours ago."
She smiled sweetly and walked away, not wanting the moment to be driven out of her head by endless questioning. Her life had been nothing, she remembered, after she had seen him in the bathtub, his eyes expressing the shock of his last few moments. She had loved him so much. She still did. Then she had found out she had been deceived by the only other person she trusted; her father. Her life had been crumbled, torn to shreds and thrown to drift away in the passing breeze. Then she had gone to the CIA to seek refuge, maybe shelter, or some twisted form of the truth. That was where she had met him. Yes, she admitted to herself, he brightened up your life. Her day improved if she had a meeting with him, just seeing a glimpse of him was enough to get her through the dragging hours of the day. He was like a food; she thrived on him, he kept her alive.
"If only you knew..." She whispered into the air, her only response being the faint noise of the television from another room. In truth, she told herself, he had created her; or, no, he broke her out of her mold of depression and death, her constant thoughts of suicide and murder, her life of a children's block structure, constantly being knocked down. He had re- built her block tower, he had saved her. And yet he was so innocent; she made it seemed he was just another person, while in truth he was her savior, the one to extend a hand and pull her from her pit of darkness. She wondered what he would do if he knew, if he knew he was the one, if he knew he was Neo, here to save the world from lies and destruction. But in this case, he was saving her from her hole of deception and death, teaching her that the world was just a lie, telling her the truth. And then she swore to truth, while lying to herself about him, her angel. Her guardian angel, as she had once said, but she hadn't been joking, in the case where he probably thought she was. But this was why she had wanted a meeting in the first place, to tell him the truth and then hide away from it, but when she had the chance she couldn't. She couldn't bear to see his eyes. She had seen Danny's, a death because of the truth, because of her love. She had loved Dixion like a father; now he was gone, and who's shoulder did she go cry on? But she knew soon she would have to push that shoulder away; she refused to let him die, too, and there were only two ways to do this, neither of which she fancied. She could stop loving him, but she knew this in itself was impossible. She had tried before and ended up back in his arms; she couldn't avoid them, nor did she want to, and so she was forced to take the second option, not that it was any better. She would have to leave him. It was easy enough in speech; she'd tell him the reason, walk away, and request a new handler. But when she came face to face with him, it was too hard. How could she kill him if he had brought her back from the dead? She knew she couldn't, rather that she had to. She told herself that she wasn't killing him, rather that she was saving him, saving him from the fate that seemed bound to anyone who she loved. She would find someone else, someone to sweep her off her feet and try to take her mind away from him, a nearly impossible task, but she knew she had to try. She had thought she could never love anyone like she had loved Danny, but that had proved untrue, so perhaps if could happen again. But she doubted she would ever be in love again, she promised herself this, but it was a promise easily carried out since she knew she was still in love with him and would be until another miracle bringer came and whisked her away on his white horse. She slowly abandoned her thoughts, perhaps practicing for the real thing. No, she again told herself. I am saving him. There is a difference. But inside she knew that in reality there most likely was not, and this is what scared her most; that she would leave him and it would all be in vain. She remembered a line from a movie, stating that 'sometimes we love someone so much that we're immune to it, because if we actually felt how much we loved them we would explode from all the love.' This, however, did not apply to her, because she could feel it, and it killed her, knowing she would have to leave him. Every time she saw him, every time she heard his voice, every hug, every moment she felt it, and this prevented her from going through with her course of action. So each day she valued every second like it was gold; she could feel the hesitant silence in the air, the silence of something gone wrong, or something to come that would destroy everything. She was destroying this, she was killing herself, but she doing it to save him. She would die without him, but she would die if he was killed. She rather that he be alive then him gone and haven taken her heart and soul with him. So she resolved to tell him, to give him a parting gift, and then leave with one last look in his eyes. That was her plan. She would stick to it, or, at least she would try. One last glimpse, one last sight of his beautiful face and she was sure she would last a little while. Just one more glimpse...
She went over to the phone and punched in ten numbers, tears forming at the banks of her eyes.
"Joey's Pizza?"
//Lion, brush away the tears//
//I am the girl broken out of stone
You have broken me from stone//
She drove back still depressed but somewhat enlightened. Francie noticed it when she entered the room.
"You're looking a lot better then you were a couple of hours ago."
She smiled sweetly and walked away, not wanting the moment to be driven out of her head by endless questioning. Her life had been nothing, she remembered, after she had seen him in the bathtub, his eyes expressing the shock of his last few moments. She had loved him so much. She still did. Then she had found out she had been deceived by the only other person she trusted; her father. Her life had been crumbled, torn to shreds and thrown to drift away in the passing breeze. Then she had gone to the CIA to seek refuge, maybe shelter, or some twisted form of the truth. That was where she had met him. Yes, she admitted to herself, he brightened up your life. Her day improved if she had a meeting with him, just seeing a glimpse of him was enough to get her through the dragging hours of the day. He was like a food; she thrived on him, he kept her alive.
"If only you knew..." She whispered into the air, her only response being the faint noise of the television from another room. In truth, she told herself, he had created her; or, no, he broke her out of her mold of depression and death, her constant thoughts of suicide and murder, her life of a children's block structure, constantly being knocked down. He had re- built her block tower, he had saved her. And yet he was so innocent; she made it seemed he was just another person, while in truth he was her savior, the one to extend a hand and pull her from her pit of darkness. She wondered what he would do if he knew, if he knew he was the one, if he knew he was Neo, here to save the world from lies and destruction. But in this case, he was saving her from her hole of deception and death, teaching her that the world was just a lie, telling her the truth. And then she swore to truth, while lying to herself about him, her angel. Her guardian angel, as she had once said, but she hadn't been joking, in the case where he probably thought she was. But this was why she had wanted a meeting in the first place, to tell him the truth and then hide away from it, but when she had the chance she couldn't. She couldn't bear to see his eyes. She had seen Danny's, a death because of the truth, because of her love. She had loved Dixion like a father; now he was gone, and who's shoulder did she go cry on? But she knew soon she would have to push that shoulder away; she refused to let him die, too, and there were only two ways to do this, neither of which she fancied. She could stop loving him, but she knew this in itself was impossible. She had tried before and ended up back in his arms; she couldn't avoid them, nor did she want to, and so she was forced to take the second option, not that it was any better. She would have to leave him. It was easy enough in speech; she'd tell him the reason, walk away, and request a new handler. But when she came face to face with him, it was too hard. How could she kill him if he had brought her back from the dead? She knew she couldn't, rather that she had to. She told herself that she wasn't killing him, rather that she was saving him, saving him from the fate that seemed bound to anyone who she loved. She would find someone else, someone to sweep her off her feet and try to take her mind away from him, a nearly impossible task, but she knew she had to try. She had thought she could never love anyone like she had loved Danny, but that had proved untrue, so perhaps if could happen again. But she doubted she would ever be in love again, she promised herself this, but it was a promise easily carried out since she knew she was still in love with him and would be until another miracle bringer came and whisked her away on his white horse. She slowly abandoned her thoughts, perhaps practicing for the real thing. No, she again told herself. I am saving him. There is a difference. But inside she knew that in reality there most likely was not, and this is what scared her most; that she would leave him and it would all be in vain. She remembered a line from a movie, stating that 'sometimes we love someone so much that we're immune to it, because if we actually felt how much we loved them we would explode from all the love.' This, however, did not apply to her, because she could feel it, and it killed her, knowing she would have to leave him. Every time she saw him, every time she heard his voice, every hug, every moment she felt it, and this prevented her from going through with her course of action. So each day she valued every second like it was gold; she could feel the hesitant silence in the air, the silence of something gone wrong, or something to come that would destroy everything. She was destroying this, she was killing herself, but she doing it to save him. She would die without him, but she would die if he was killed. She rather that he be alive then him gone and haven taken her heart and soul with him. So she resolved to tell him, to give him a parting gift, and then leave with one last look in his eyes. That was her plan. She would stick to it, or, at least she would try. One last glimpse, one last sight of his beautiful face and she was sure she would last a little while. Just one more glimpse...
She went over to the phone and punched in ten numbers, tears forming at the banks of her eyes.
"Joey's Pizza?"
//Lion, brush away the tears//