I paced, wearing down a line in the carpet of the small apartment Harold
had bought for me during my stay. People who die, stay dead. "Dead people
don't come back!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms at a table, scattering
papers and pencils off to the side.
But she was so real. . . I had dreamed so many times that I would see her, and now that I have. . . what was better? Dreaming it or your dream becoming an reality.
She lied to me. She made me believe that she loved me, and like a fool I believed and gave her my heart. I could just imagine her, sitting back on her golden thrown, laughing at me while I became nothing but a corpse, like I thought she was. . . But no, she was too brilliant, too expensive, too high-class for death. She was always so strong, so determined. She could argue her way out of everything, even death.
"She wasn't sick! I should have know. . . I SHOULD have know. . . the doctors never told me anything of what was wrong with her. . ." I threw my hands in the air. "I hate her! That cold, unfeeling, ungrateful, beautiful, talented woman."
I sat down in a chair and let my head fall to my hands. I hated her. . . or at least I wanted to hate her. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to. . . but I love her. She did her job so very, very well.
But. . . why? Why did she do this? What did she get in return?
How is it possible to love someone with your whole heart, and loathe them at the same time?
"Everything's so blurry, and everyone's so fake. Everybody's empty and everything is so messed up. Pre-occupied without you, I cannot live at all. My whole world surrounds you, I stumble and I crawl. You could be my someone, you can be my scene. You know that I'll protect you from all of the obscene. I wonder what your doing, imagine where you are. . . Can you take it all away, can you take it all away? Well you shoved it in my face. This pain you gave to me."
I would have given her the world. I would have sold my soul to the devil just to see her smile at me once more, and she was just laughing at the thought. "Everyone is changing, there's no one left that's real. Make up your own ending, and let me know just how you feel. Cause I am lost without you, I cannot live at all. My whole world surrounds you, I stumble then I crawl. You could be my someone, you can be my scene. You know that I will save you from all of the unclean. I wonder what your doing, I wonder where you are. . . Can you take it all away, can you take it all away? Well you shoved it in my face. This pain you gave to me."
I want her to feel this pain. . . to have these tears burn her beautiful eyes.
Damnit. . . why can't she just love me like I love her?
I faked a bad headache and a cold and hurried on home. When the door opened, Marie asked, "What are you doing home so early?"
I slowly walked to her in the kitchen, my eyes still full of tears. "Marie. . . Christian's back. He's the writer. . ."
She didn't look up from peeling a carrot.
"M-Marie. . . he's back. He's back. . ."
"I know," she whispered.
I looked at her for a second, nothing registering in my mind. Finally I asked, "What do you mean you know?"
"Harold. . . sent a letter. I read it. . ."
"You knew. . . and you didn't tell me?" I put a hand to my heart and backed away until I felt the wall behind me. "You knew. . ."
"Yes, I did." She put the knife and carrot down and turned her eyes to me. "Well if you had known, you would have avoided him all the time he was here. . . And Ewan would never have a change to meet his father, and you'd marry Jonathan. . ."
"Ewan will NOT meet his father, and I WILL marry Jonathan!" I yelled, gasping in air. "You knew. . . the whole time you knew and you didn't tell me. . ." I shook my head. No, this wasn't happening.
"Christian deserves to see his son, if nothing else. He is Ewan's real father, and that is something Jonathan can never be, no matter how much you want him to."
"He will not!" I screamed, stamping my foot. My eyes were so filled with tears that I couldn't see anymore. "He will never see him!"
"My dear. . ." Marie softened her voice. "You told Ewan his father was dead. . . but which of his parents truly died?"
I shook my head at her. She knew nothing about me, about Ewan, about love. . . I grabbed my coat.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Out!" I yelled, slamming the door shut.
The cold air stung my eyes and I put a hand to them. Oh Christian, my beautiful poet. . . how can I make you understand that this is all for the best?
I love him. . . I will always love him, but it's too late. The woman he loved is dead. I'll never forget him, but the past is the past.
"When I think back on these times and the dreams we left behind, I'll be glad cause I was blessed to get, to have you in my life. When I look back on these days I'll look and see your face. You were right there for me. . . In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky. In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life. I'll keep a part of you with me, and everywhere I am there you'll be."
I walked on down the street, hugging my coat around me. The trees were turning colors - reds, oranges, yellows - it was like a splash of sunshine wherever you went. Everything was so beautiful. I must have walked down this streets a thousand times a week, and never saw how beautiful. I wonder why today was different. . . it had started out so bad, but when I heard Hans say his name. . . a thrill ran over me. And when Christian kissed me. . . I put my hand up to my lips, still feeling the warmth. It had been so sweet, so pure, so beautiful. My heart did want to believe in starting over, in the truth. . . but things so rarely turn out the way you want them to.
"Well you showed me how it feels to feel the sky within my reach. And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me. Your love made me make it through, and I owe so much to you. You were right there for me. 'Cause I always saw in you my light, my strength. And I want to thank you now for all the ways you were right there for me, always. In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky. In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life. I'll keep a part of you with me. And everywhere I am there you'll be."
That night I took a walk around the city, with my coat pulled tightly over me and my hat covering my eyes. I didn't want to meet anyone tonight. Not someone with flawless skin, and the purest lips that I still longed to kiss.
"Forget her," I whispered to myself, a tall German man with his wife glancing slightly in my direction. I pulled my hat down more, walking past them.
I didn't know where I was going, but turned a corner and glanced around me in the darkness, light by porch lights. The trees were truly beautiful in autumn. . . for years I didn't take any notice. 'Why was today something different?' I wondered, but I didn't want an answer, just some air as I saw her through a window of a second story home, brushing her now-blonde hair, wearing a white silk night gown.
"Satine. . ." I whispered. I wanted to turn away, and I instructed my legs to do so, but they wouldn't move and I continued to watch her, now standing and touching the window softly. Her mouth was opened, but she didn't say any thing, just gazed out into the night.
"Snap out of it!" I yelled, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her.
"I can see you stand there, despite the lack of the moon," I found myself whispering. "I can see your face, dear, that loveless expression remains there. . . Stunning like a white rose, but one that's carved out of stone. You won't say a thing, love, though I swear I'd give you my heart and all that I request is you'll be in my dreams, dear. Wear that dress for me and for me alone."
But suddenly the reality hit me as a small child, with dark hair, ran into her arms. She has a child? Is she married also? Oh, no. Satine married? No man could handle her. Probably one of the gifts she got from the Duke. . . but even from this distance he looks nothing like the Duke. Dark hair, like the night sky, and blue eyes. . . Satine's pale skin. . . who's child was he? "When I must awake, I can still see you stand there, laughing at my pain as I fall back down. Though I long for your kiss, cold as the dark of the moon, you would still prefer, dear, to break my heart over and over. How I wish that I could touch those long and silky locks, but instead you stand there, still laughing as I gasp in pain, and why must I awake, though this night is tormenting, only to forget 'til another dream?"
She smiled. . . that pure smile that I knew was only her, and hugged the boy, mouthing 'I love you'. She was probably lying to him too, but a tear rolled down her cheek. "I can't even tell if you're all you seem. Why must I awake, though this night is tormenting? Only to forget 'til another dream?"
Hate surfaced up again and I felt my jaw clench as I continued down the street. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Alright, it might seem like I don't know what I'm doing. . . but I do. I have a very interesting idea in my head. . .
SONGS USED: 'Blurry' by Puddle of Mudd 'There You'll Be' by Faith Hill 'Other Side Of The Moon' (English Translations) by Weiss Kruez
But she was so real. . . I had dreamed so many times that I would see her, and now that I have. . . what was better? Dreaming it or your dream becoming an reality.
She lied to me. She made me believe that she loved me, and like a fool I believed and gave her my heart. I could just imagine her, sitting back on her golden thrown, laughing at me while I became nothing but a corpse, like I thought she was. . . But no, she was too brilliant, too expensive, too high-class for death. She was always so strong, so determined. She could argue her way out of everything, even death.
"She wasn't sick! I should have know. . . I SHOULD have know. . . the doctors never told me anything of what was wrong with her. . ." I threw my hands in the air. "I hate her! That cold, unfeeling, ungrateful, beautiful, talented woman."
I sat down in a chair and let my head fall to my hands. I hated her. . . or at least I wanted to hate her. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to. . . but I love her. She did her job so very, very well.
But. . . why? Why did she do this? What did she get in return?
How is it possible to love someone with your whole heart, and loathe them at the same time?
"Everything's so blurry, and everyone's so fake. Everybody's empty and everything is so messed up. Pre-occupied without you, I cannot live at all. My whole world surrounds you, I stumble and I crawl. You could be my someone, you can be my scene. You know that I'll protect you from all of the obscene. I wonder what your doing, imagine where you are. . . Can you take it all away, can you take it all away? Well you shoved it in my face. This pain you gave to me."
I would have given her the world. I would have sold my soul to the devil just to see her smile at me once more, and she was just laughing at the thought. "Everyone is changing, there's no one left that's real. Make up your own ending, and let me know just how you feel. Cause I am lost without you, I cannot live at all. My whole world surrounds you, I stumble then I crawl. You could be my someone, you can be my scene. You know that I will save you from all of the unclean. I wonder what your doing, I wonder where you are. . . Can you take it all away, can you take it all away? Well you shoved it in my face. This pain you gave to me."
I want her to feel this pain. . . to have these tears burn her beautiful eyes.
Damnit. . . why can't she just love me like I love her?
I faked a bad headache and a cold and hurried on home. When the door opened, Marie asked, "What are you doing home so early?"
I slowly walked to her in the kitchen, my eyes still full of tears. "Marie. . . Christian's back. He's the writer. . ."
She didn't look up from peeling a carrot.
"M-Marie. . . he's back. He's back. . ."
"I know," she whispered.
I looked at her for a second, nothing registering in my mind. Finally I asked, "What do you mean you know?"
"Harold. . . sent a letter. I read it. . ."
"You knew. . . and you didn't tell me?" I put a hand to my heart and backed away until I felt the wall behind me. "You knew. . ."
"Yes, I did." She put the knife and carrot down and turned her eyes to me. "Well if you had known, you would have avoided him all the time he was here. . . And Ewan would never have a change to meet his father, and you'd marry Jonathan. . ."
"Ewan will NOT meet his father, and I WILL marry Jonathan!" I yelled, gasping in air. "You knew. . . the whole time you knew and you didn't tell me. . ." I shook my head. No, this wasn't happening.
"Christian deserves to see his son, if nothing else. He is Ewan's real father, and that is something Jonathan can never be, no matter how much you want him to."
"He will not!" I screamed, stamping my foot. My eyes were so filled with tears that I couldn't see anymore. "He will never see him!"
"My dear. . ." Marie softened her voice. "You told Ewan his father was dead. . . but which of his parents truly died?"
I shook my head at her. She knew nothing about me, about Ewan, about love. . . I grabbed my coat.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Out!" I yelled, slamming the door shut.
The cold air stung my eyes and I put a hand to them. Oh Christian, my beautiful poet. . . how can I make you understand that this is all for the best?
I love him. . . I will always love him, but it's too late. The woman he loved is dead. I'll never forget him, but the past is the past.
"When I think back on these times and the dreams we left behind, I'll be glad cause I was blessed to get, to have you in my life. When I look back on these days I'll look and see your face. You were right there for me. . . In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky. In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life. I'll keep a part of you with me, and everywhere I am there you'll be."
I walked on down the street, hugging my coat around me. The trees were turning colors - reds, oranges, yellows - it was like a splash of sunshine wherever you went. Everything was so beautiful. I must have walked down this streets a thousand times a week, and never saw how beautiful. I wonder why today was different. . . it had started out so bad, but when I heard Hans say his name. . . a thrill ran over me. And when Christian kissed me. . . I put my hand up to my lips, still feeling the warmth. It had been so sweet, so pure, so beautiful. My heart did want to believe in starting over, in the truth. . . but things so rarely turn out the way you want them to.
"Well you showed me how it feels to feel the sky within my reach. And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me. Your love made me make it through, and I owe so much to you. You were right there for me. 'Cause I always saw in you my light, my strength. And I want to thank you now for all the ways you were right there for me, always. In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky. In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life. I'll keep a part of you with me. And everywhere I am there you'll be."
That night I took a walk around the city, with my coat pulled tightly over me and my hat covering my eyes. I didn't want to meet anyone tonight. Not someone with flawless skin, and the purest lips that I still longed to kiss.
"Forget her," I whispered to myself, a tall German man with his wife glancing slightly in my direction. I pulled my hat down more, walking past them.
I didn't know where I was going, but turned a corner and glanced around me in the darkness, light by porch lights. The trees were truly beautiful in autumn. . . for years I didn't take any notice. 'Why was today something different?' I wondered, but I didn't want an answer, just some air as I saw her through a window of a second story home, brushing her now-blonde hair, wearing a white silk night gown.
"Satine. . ." I whispered. I wanted to turn away, and I instructed my legs to do so, but they wouldn't move and I continued to watch her, now standing and touching the window softly. Her mouth was opened, but she didn't say any thing, just gazed out into the night.
"Snap out of it!" I yelled, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her.
"I can see you stand there, despite the lack of the moon," I found myself whispering. "I can see your face, dear, that loveless expression remains there. . . Stunning like a white rose, but one that's carved out of stone. You won't say a thing, love, though I swear I'd give you my heart and all that I request is you'll be in my dreams, dear. Wear that dress for me and for me alone."
But suddenly the reality hit me as a small child, with dark hair, ran into her arms. She has a child? Is she married also? Oh, no. Satine married? No man could handle her. Probably one of the gifts she got from the Duke. . . but even from this distance he looks nothing like the Duke. Dark hair, like the night sky, and blue eyes. . . Satine's pale skin. . . who's child was he? "When I must awake, I can still see you stand there, laughing at my pain as I fall back down. Though I long for your kiss, cold as the dark of the moon, you would still prefer, dear, to break my heart over and over. How I wish that I could touch those long and silky locks, but instead you stand there, still laughing as I gasp in pain, and why must I awake, though this night is tormenting, only to forget 'til another dream?"
She smiled. . . that pure smile that I knew was only her, and hugged the boy, mouthing 'I love you'. She was probably lying to him too, but a tear rolled down her cheek. "I can't even tell if you're all you seem. Why must I awake, though this night is tormenting? Only to forget 'til another dream?"
Hate surfaced up again and I felt my jaw clench as I continued down the street. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Alright, it might seem like I don't know what I'm doing. . . but I do. I have a very interesting idea in my head. . .
SONGS USED: 'Blurry' by Puddle of Mudd 'There You'll Be' by Faith Hill 'Other Side Of The Moon' (English Translations) by Weiss Kruez