Title: Exile
Author: Mitch
Series: Part 1 of ?
Rating: R (for future chapters)
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Category: Angst
I haven't cried this hard in years. Not out loud. I always put up a front of being in control of myself and the things around me. But my insides are always twisting and turning. I think I feel too much sometimes. I'm always worried, always sad, always frustrated, always afraid. Things are not going to go my way and I know it. I don't think I even know what I want my way to be. Things happen as they will and I decide, for one reason or another, that they have happened badly.
Then I meet Clark. Clark is beautiful. He has beautiful blue eyes and the most endearing smile. He's different like me and suddenly the burden of being abnormal is a privilege. It's a secret weapon that he and I share. We of the tired eyes. We who have been here so briefly, and seen far too much. He smiles before he talks. I don't hear his words. They are only the means by which his spirit can shake hands with mine. I begin to think God doesn't hate me, that things worked out this way for a very important reason.
But through all the anger and sadness and frustration, I still have no one. Nobody cares about just me. Nobody hurts for me. Nobody sees my pain and would rather take it upon themselves than watch me suffer for one more second. I've never felt so completely alone. People cry when their love leaves, but they don't know what loneliness is. They have no idea. It aches like an open wound bleeding over my bare toes. I have so much love inside that is leaking out everyday being replaced by a frightening hardness. I'm being overtaken by an anger so old and so deep that I almost don't feel it anymore. What many would mistake for their emotions shutting off, I recognize as my spirit dying. My mind changing. My heart shrinking.
I need love. I need to feel loved by someone who understands me intellectually, emotionally, and physically. I want someone so right for me that the first time we make love isn't even a question in my mind. That the only reason I'm nervous is because I love him and want more than anything to make him happy, to make it special. I will either be the most passionate fire he's ever felt, or dream through the whole experience, not loving, not feeling. It all depends on how much of my heart is left on that fateful day.
With the way of things, it looks like it will be a long time before he comes to me. Until then, I remain lost, my will to search diminished, my heart fallen.