Unexpected Shift

How can it be that it doesn't hurt right now?
Have I become numb from what I've known?
Or have I sunk into the abyss of "friendship,"
with you.
Is that even possible?

It had been two months since Haruka had opened her heart to Michiru. Michiru, the one who understood everything about the blonde, more than she ever could have imagined. Grimacing at the memory of that particular event, Haruka buried her sandy head under a highly abused pillow. She didn't want to remember the pitying look that had come across the face of the one she held so dearly. Michi had been kind about it, sickeningly so. She had let her down gently, if there was such a thing. Michiru had tried to hug Haruka to her, to calm her down and let her know that even though she didn't feel the same way, she still cared for her. Haruka winced, she hated feeling vulnerable, and there had been no more barriers between the two, until Michiru had denied her.

How can ex lovers be now so little?
Somewhere, buried, I'm sure is that heat,
that longing and love.
Yet it hurts less not to say it to you.

Haruka ignored the familiar dull ache somewhere in her chest, and thought about how in their past lives they had always been together, as friends, partners, and more. Laughing bitterly, she said partially out loud," At least my former selves got to be happy."

Can I be moving on?
I pause to wonder about that a while.
I'm not sure how I feel anymore, when it comes to you.
I still can't sleep,
stay awake until all hours of the night
sometimes, with your name on my lips.

She refused to think about it any more for the remainder of the evening, or tried to at any rate. In all honesty, it did hurt less thinking about it, and she didn't have to worry about saying anything to Michiru as, after her refusal, Haruka had stared in disbelief before running away as fast as the wind would carry her. She had ignored Michi's attempt to follow her, merely picking up the pace, letting her element envelop her with its sighing scream. It wasn't exactly comforting, but it jarred her enough to recall her own inner strength. As the tears scorched her cheeks, she furiously wiped at them before deciding that it was healthy to cry. Maybe she could purge Michiru from her system, flood herself with the air, and put aside her memories for a time. The breeze had steadily climbed to a gale, and whipped her hair around and around, cruelly drying the damp teal of her eyes . Haruka ground her teeth, welcoming the stinging that reminded her she was still alive.

Kinda funny isn't it, how closely laced love and pleasure are
with indescribable pain?
I haven't been able to quit smoking,
even though I know it's guiding me to an early grave.
Hopefully soon I will, because I don't want the ashes
of what we had, to become the base for my demise.

Haruka shook away that day of reckoning. She smiled a little as she reached for the pack of cigarettes kept on her night-stand. Blocking out the past, she lit one, inhaling strength from the whispered breath of death. She had been meaning to quit, but found it more difficult than she had thought. Already addicted, after only a few months of usage. Once she had found the willpower to stop she decided she should really write the tobacco company. Not that she'd hear anything back, she mused, blowing a stream of smoke upwards. It was the principle of the thing really. Unfortunately, her reprieve didn't last long. The average cigarette only took seven minutes or so to finish, and all the tobacco and nicotine in the world wouldn't be enough to erase Michi.

Can't touch a bottle,
for fear I might drown.
Lost in memories that sit too close to the heart.
Empty echoes taunt me with their lies,
and still I miss it in a way.

That was true enough, Haruka hadn't had the nerve to go near alcohol, for that exact reason. Her brother had fallen into the habit too easily, and since she didn't have Michiru around to stop her after only a couple of drinks, she knew better than to trust herself around the sly operator that is alcohol.

But here I am,
watching and wondering,
whether it was worth it.
With a shake of my head,
I remove myself from such nonsense.

For surely nonsense it is.
I learned from you, that much is true.
And I was happy for a while,
though it burns me now
to know what I gave to you,
and the disaster thrown to me in the end.

Still knowing what she did, Haruka kept tabs of sorts on Michiru, trying to make sure that the aqua-haired girl was doing okay. Not that caring about Haruka was any skin off her back. Haruka's grip on her Coke bottle increased before she took another sip. Who was she kidding? She could no easier forget about Michi than block out the oxygen she needed to survive.

Still, I shall remember you fondly,
as the sun sets behind me,
and I walk forward.
No one noticing the misstep,
as I turn back one last time.

It was time for another cigarette, Haruka decided before she became any more contemplative and brooding. She had come to one conclusion though. She couldn't keep shutting Michi out completely. Countless, worried messages from her still waited on Haruka's answering machine. Evidently she did care to some extent, but would it be enough? Haruka sighed, pressing the heel of the hand not holding a cigarette to her aching forehead. Maybe Michiru would come around in the end. Haruka had no way of knowing, but she was becoming aware that without her, she was slowly suffocating. Regardless of the fact that it would feel like knives piercing her lungs, she had to start breathing again.

A/N: Wow, okay, that was harder than I thought it would be. The poem was written by me, so I guess I get to copyright myself? Lol. Rather than starting with a full-fledged fan fic, I thought I might try combining my specialty with this new field to make the transition easier. This is my first fan fiction EVER, so please be kind!

Neptune's Mask...