Does it have to hurt this much?
Is the pain always this stabbing?
Or the regrets always this harsh?
I walk, dazedly, inside the walls of my abandoned prison, my frenzied mind
weaving thoughts far greater then any mere man should bare.
And to see those violets… to remember the pain and the scars, the blood and tears shed together in a macabre crimson rain.
Violets. The first thing I had seen upon running into daylight, enthralled with the hustle and bustle of the aboveground world.
Violets- the small patch of flowers covered in blood as I used them to wipe the remains of my father off innocent hands.
And violets… Yami… the first time
I had laid eyes on him for what he truly was
He was the light of my life, he drifted in like sunshine after a storm, and in
a sense she was.
He was the ONLY bright factor in my overcast, tumultuous life. The turbulent
water of my pain threatened to drown him with it's all encompassing, density.
The waves of self-loathing and abject misery washed over any being near enough
to look within my devastated eyes.
Hiding the pain was a task a young man should not have had to bear. The painted
smiles I brushed upon my face were mere forgeries.
In my case he was at first a nefarious blessing.
The
horrifying holder of all that was dark, and still left, within my heart and
soul.
I learned to love him, to embrace and except my Yami, despite all his failings.
For his actions could not be helped, as it was his nature. They could, however,
be tamed.
It was a brilliant, windy day in June, when the violets were swirling through
the trees and air like faeries in the wind.
He was clad in dark black pants with a light purple tee. It was in that moment,
as he impulsively caught my hand and tugged me into a flurry of purple petals,
when I really saw him.
He had laughed and smiled at my startled face, twirling us both around the
falling flowers, taking exceptional joy in natures ardent display of mauve
rain. I saw his sparkling violet eyes, his soft, upturned mouth, his love of
life, and his longing for friendship.
It was like a switch flicked within my soul, and suddenly all that was still
alive within me melted into hope, and every capable fiber in my body was desperately
in love with the vivacious creature holding my hand.
I had found my reason worth living for.
I had found my greatest passion, and with it my greatest pain.
Our hearts are not as solid and
unyielding as we men like to think.
We shatter with the rest of them, bleed like the humans we are. We merely hide
our anguish behind barriers as thick as the ocean is wide.
I may not be so lucky, I am not every man.
I have tasted the sweet poison of power, and felt the bitter blood of defeat
trickle through my mind like venom.
I will never be able to run from my other half, the Yami that I grasp with desperate hands. For the bond between a Yami and Hikari is a very special thing, you see. Something that cannot be easily broken. I see this know, through all the blood and tears. All the shattered fragments of my heart, and distorted curves of my soul. This is all a dream, a sick illusion. I cut my hands on these jagged prison walls, and choke on the rinds of the lies I feed myself.
I want to be free.
No, I am not as stolid and apathetic as I would have you believe.
I am not.
I never was.