Entry 8

He came back and… and…

And it was weird.

But I feel closer to him now, so I'll deal with it.

Today's Thursday; he came back on Tuesday. I heard him coming and went to him immediately. He was just how I like him! He was covered in dust, which bothered me, but his eyes! They glowed and danced like there were fireflies inside. He was at his best, every part of him animated and energetic. He told me (poorly; he spoke so fast I struggled to keep up) he'd been out running. He was kinda-sorta looking for Robotnik, but mostly it was just for fun.

I didn't talk much. I didn't have much to say and I had no chances to say it. Don't think I minded. Even a talkative girl like me knows when to listen. So I shut up and basked in the glory my Sonic radiated.

I've felt happier, but not often and not by much.

He was so alive, so full of being Sonic that…

That…

One of the reasons I chased Sonic, even though I had better chances of catching the wind, was to see him like that. I got to see him run and be in motion, so even though he was running from me, I got to feel like I was making him happy. I was probably wrong; his trying to get away from me probably canceled his joy at running. But I clung to straws.

Now, he doesn't mind me. Running makes him feel good whether I'm there or not. I can't see how it's a bad thing.

The next day was stranger. I'd left him on Tuesday without arranging anything else. I didn't want to leave things at that, so I went back on Wednesday.

I've never seen Sonic so… pitiful!
It was heartbreaking. He was still as dirty as the day before. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, he clearly hadn't slept. His hands were twitching.

"Sonic?" I said. He didn't respond. "Sonic?" I repeated.

His head and ears swiveled to me but his eyes didn't focus. He stared past me. "'Zat you, Amy?" he said dully.

"Yes, Sonic," I said, sober instantly.

"Did I tell you 'bout how I ripped the Green Hills yesterday?"

He had told me—except that he'd ripped the hills two days before.

He reached out his paw and grabbed weakly, trying to catch something just beyond his fingertips. Then he let his arm go slack, a dull thud coming as his hand dropped. "Heh," he said, "I did? Well, get out, then."

"What?" I said, blinking. "Sonic…"

"Get out!" he shouted. "I gotta headache."

"But why?"

"I'm tired!" he shouted. "Go away. I need some sleep."

I turned away from him and headed for the door. As I got there, he said, "Not done running. Haven't found it yet. Gotta find… gotta keep running…"

I shut the door and rushed away from him.

It was so… what's the word? Scary? Sad? Depressing? All of these at once, and more I can't describe. All I know for sure is that I wanted out of there. I couldn't deal with it.

Even now, I can't make heads or tails out of what I saw. I've never seen Sonic like that before. I've always seen him going strong, full of life—like he was on Tuesday, not like he was on Wednesday.

I wish you could answer me, dairy. I'm so confused. Should I go back? What could I say to him? I don't even know what he'll be like!

One thing I know, though. No one else has seen him like that before. I'm the first one. I hope he doesn't feel like that all the time! How would I know?

Oh, doesn't he see that's why he needs to marry someone? (Like me [knock on wood]?) If he's like that a lot, he needs… I don't know, something!

I feel powerless sometimes. A lot of times. I'm a spectator in his life, on the spot but not involved. Why can't I change that? Why won't he let me change that?

If you can give me any answers, diary, I'd greatly appreciate it.