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I must have the shittiest luck in the world. You'd think that would make me stop gambling, knowing that. Guess I'm not that smart. I keep telling myself that the dice don't have a memory. When it comes to luck, the past has no bearing on the present.
After coming up twos in everything I do for as long as I actually remember, I'm starting to rethink that. And now, I think I'm out of money to bet.
Everything I try blows up in my face, and in the end, I'm deeper in the hole than where I started. Every. Single. Godammned. Thing. It's been that way since I woke up.
I suppose part of what I'm pissed about, is how I've been worthless to everyone. As myself, I mean. Nobody wanted me. They wanted my money, or the money they could get off of me, or whatever else I could give them. There was that complete bastard from the first, and the doctor wasn't much better. Woke me up, just because they wanted the money they thought I had, money that had long since vanished. I sincerely loved that bastard, and in the end, I was just a way to get out of debt for him. I grieved for him for five years (1). And then, when I finally ran into him again, he didn't understand why I was pissed at him.
Everything's been like that. I always get dealt the worst hands imaginable, or if I don't, I manage to play bad enough to lose. There was that casino. My bright idea of going out on my own to confront that mafia guy. Do you know how much it pissed me off that you had to come rescue me? Hell, every single time I went after a bounty on my own it backfired spectacularly. Even trying to get away from you never worked right. And let's not forget that poor, sweet sax player. He was the kinda guy I might have loved, but he was too broken by the time I met him for anything to save him. And don't think I didn't hear that he'd folded.
Things never went right with you, either. By that time, I was starting to realize the trend my luck took. Do you know how hard I tried to not fall in love with you? That's why I was such a bitch. Deep down, I knew something would happen and it wouldn't work, so I denied I was falling for you. I didn't have a family, I didn't need one. I didn't need you, or any of them. I didn't like you, you didn't like me, and everything was hunky-dory.
But goddammit, you some how manage to get under my skin. Not just you, the others too. Even that stupid kid and the mutt. You were what I had been looking for, and I guess what I needed.
Oh God, I tried so hard to keep you safe. Tried to watch your ass when I could, tried to keep you out of the loop when I couldn't, and worried like hell when I couldn't do either. Not that you ever noticed, or let me do that kind of shit. That first time you went after that psychotic son of a bitch, I was terrified, although I don't think I had fallen in love with you yet. You had gone to rescue me, because I had been an idiot. If you had died because of me, I don't think I could have handled it. Of course, later I found out that it wasn't necessarily because of me; you wanted that son of a bitch dead.
I suppose I'm grateful that at least you were honest about not giving a damn about me, just what I could do for you. Does it hurt more to know there's no chance, or to believe there's a chance then find out there never was one? I don't know.
That's why I ran away so much, you know. I couldn't handle not mattering. If I didn't matter to you, then you sure as hell didn't matter to me, and I didn't need you around. I can lie to everyone except myself; I ended up coming back every time. Although, damn you, you never came after me when I ran away.
There was that one time, though, when I tried to infiltrate that cyber-cult thing, and got caught. I remember waking up and seeing you there, and you smiled at me. And I might have been imagining it, but I thought you looked relieved. That's what made me think I had a chance.
I never did, that's clear now. You were so… determined to keep reliving your past, never let it go. I can't compete with an obsession. You had won once, so you felt like you had to keep playing the same numbers. If I had known what she was to you, what you would do for her, hell, that you would go running off into a hail of gunfire for her, I never would have delivered the damned message. I'd have kept it to myself.
I don't know if she ever loved you or not, and I don't really care. What mattered was that you loved her, or thought you did. When you came back that night, I knew that you'd lost her some way or another. You have a wonderful poker face, but I can read you pretty good sometimes. Goddammit, I tried to warn you that going back to the past would only hurt you. They mean it when they say you can't go back again.
Once she had cashed out, you could have kept playing; she wasn't holding your chips. You didn't have to go for broke. But then, all or nothing always was your style.
I've stopped crying about it, at least. Big girls don't cry. So I'm mad. I don't know who I'm mad at: me, you, him, her… Maybe all of the above. All I know is that I'm pretty sure I'm not mad at the kid or the dog. I do know that if you come through it, I'm going to kick your ass for being such an idiot, and then I'm going to try my luck again with you. But if you give up, well, then I guess I know how much the rest of us matter to you.
All bets are on the table, and this is the last call. We're just waiting for the ball to stop spinning. I don't care if you win big this time around, I just don't want you to leave the table yet.
Oh God, please don't leave the table yet.
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(1) Note- I'm making a rough guess as to how long it's been since Faye was woken up (My Funny Valentine). If I'm wrong, please tell me.