Author's Notes: I was originally going to do this a little differently. It started out as a songfic for "She Will Be Loved" and when Shi Rurouni of the Aphrodesiac beat me to it, I decided to scrap it. But then, when I was sitting in church the other day (hence, the title is the same as the book of Lamentations written by Jeremiah the prophet), I came up with an even better story than what I had, and it's different enough that it's not unoriginal. :) Now, I'll probably be struck by lightning for it… Oh well!
BTW, Shi Rurouni, thanks for the advice, it's what led me to rewrite this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing…you knew that. ;)
Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else
For as long as I can remember, I've been in love with her.
She never knew. I never told her. She was always somehow just out-of-reach. Who's Peter Parker to Mary Jane Watson? The two don't even begin to compare.
She's everything I'm not, beautiful, outgoing, confident. She's an angel, with fiery red hair that's a perfect match for her natural charismatic spark. And I… I so wanted to be with her.
I know she's not perfect; I couldn't have lived next door to her for 12 years and not figured that much out. But you can't pick your family, and certainly not your problems, so, in my opinion, she's about as close as it gets.
Whenever I used to dream, it was of her, and, for a while, I lived inside my head.
Things always seem to work out in dreams, the way they never seem to work out in life. But occasionally, you get lucky. At least, that's the only way I can think to describe it…
The moonlight bounced off the sleepy backyard patio, throwing itself in different directions, as my shadow sliced through the steady beams. Its soothing glow refracted off the dull metal of the trashcan lid for the split second it took me to drop the trash bag into the darkened recesses, before stabilizing as the lid was firmly back in place.
The sound of shouting behind me caught my attention, and I turned in time to see Mary Jane emerge in an air of irritation, throwing her hands in her pockets in an attempt to combat the cold of the atmosphere. She sighed audibly, before noticing me watching her.
Her brows furrowed. "Were you listening to that?" she accused.
"No, I…" I stumbled, surprised by her harshness. "I mean, I heard, but I was… I was just taking out the trash."
Her anger dissipated as abruptly as it surfaced. Instead she sounded remorseful. "I guess you can always hear us."
"Everybody shouts."
"Your aunt and uncle don't." Her voice is softer then, wounded.
I couldn't let it go at that, determined to make her feel better. She's prettier when she smiles. So, I told her what I knew she wanted to hear: "They can scream pretty good sometimes." It was at least partially true, though, their screams were rarely directed toward me.
It was enough to assure her though.
"So, where you going after you graduate?" she asked, shortening the distance between us.
It was no secret that I was in to photography, so I had no reservations in telling her my ideal job as a means for paying for college. MJ however, hesitated.
"I want to… I don't know…" she trailed off, making it obvious to me that she did know but didn't want to tell me for fear of…
'What? Fear of what?' No answers were forthcoming.
"Oh come on, try me." I wanted her to know she could trust me. I wanted us to be friends.
She suddenly looked so vulnerable, so embarrassed, that I almost told her to forget it, but before the words could escape my lips, she answered. "I want to act…on stage."
I could think of nothing more suitable for her. I knew she would make it big one day, and I counted myself lucky to be one of the few she shared this privileged information with. I only hoped that things could work out as well for myself.
But that was before my life turned into a nightmare. Now when I dream, I see spiders…
I'm cursed, a somewhat reluctant hero, trying in vain to work off a debt that can never be repaid.
But I won't stop. Not as long as I can prevent others from sharing a similar pain. Not as long as I have the opportunity to do what's right - even if that means giving up the love of my life, to leave her saddened by the grave of my other lost loved one, the one I failed to protect.
If I'd been anywhere else, I might not have had the strength to walk away. But standing there, with the voice of Uncle Ben echoing across my mind, I had no choice. I can't take the chance of her getting hurt. Not another death because of me. It's a decision I made the day I chose selfishness over honor, and I will forever suffer the consequences. Now, I live only for others.
I have a responsibility. But that doesn't make it any easier.
To Be Continued. Oh, and before you go...leave a reivew? :)