Title: Lonely Love

Characters: Rangiku, Gin

Word Count: 672

Warnings: I apologize for any OOC, and a little angtsy, hints of (GinxRan)

A/N: Inspired by a quote in the Introduction of the book East of Eden by John Stinebeck, I don't think it's that great, but it's decent.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach (I wish!)


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It's all too familiar.

And yet, each time it happens, she feels something different: hurt, sick, sadness, anger, confusion; she is no stranger to being left behind.

And he is no stranger to leaving behind either.

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She could tell you about the time when he saved a starving girl, a random, beat-up, street girl with no friends, family, nothing, a nobody, and gave her everything: a birthday, a name, and a life. She could tell you about a time where he would teach a girl how to twirl, and they would spin faster and faster until the trees and flowers and buildings all blurred together in a dazzling, joyous mix of colors. How he would cheer her up by giving something, a little piece of cake, a beat-up hairpin, a half-broken yo-yo; always something precious. How he would pop out of nowhere and attack her, proudly exclaiming the tickle monster had come over her shrieks of laughter. How, when she would shiver and cower in the dark of monsters, he would snuggle up beside her and sing to her, to soothe her back to sleep.

And she could tell you other things to, times where he would leave, for days and weeks , times where she never walked outside in the streets, because he wasn't around to help her, stop her from being raped, beaten, or killed. Times where she would cry, alone in her corner, because she didn't have anyone to coax her out, no one to talk to, to have fun with, keep each other safe, just to be around, to know there was someone that cared. Times where she would scream in the dark, because she couldn't stop from seeing monsters, bad things, hurt, and no one would be there to whisper to her and tell her, it was all ok.

And he would come back and say, "I missed you, Ran-chan" or "I'll stay for longer this time" and she would always smile and laugh and tease him, hold on to him as long as she could, and save the tears for when his back was turned on another adventure.

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Out of all the things, she hates this the most. Why? Why?? It's not him leaving him that bothers her, but how she is always left behind, always in search of something better, always left to waste away; reaching for something, only to have him constantly moved up, higher and higher, farther and farther away from her reach. Maybe if she was better, prettier, stronger, more interesting, he'd want to stay or he'd take her with him together, and she'd never have to be lonely again.

Sometimes, it's just too much, and she will rage and storm and yell and shout, rage at him, for giving her a taste of what it was to be happy, warm, and of love, and then taking it away just as fast, and then giving it back to her again, and then taking it, a constant cycle of happiness and sorrow. In her head, she will cry and curse him, with every word she knows, because he knows what he does to her, damnit, when he goes, he knows and doesn't care and does it anyway; he breaks her and revives her only to break her again.

He doesn't need her like she needs him, he doesn't care like she cares, doesn't feel for her like she feels, and can't possibly love her, because how could you abandon and hurt the one you loved?

And then the fire will go out of her, and now, she'll only cry. Because as much as she tries, and lord, she tries so hard to hate him, she can't, because deep down, she knows it's not his fault; it's hers.

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He can't change himself, his wayward wandering anymore than she can stop her want to have him with her and to not be alone. Perhaps it was foolish on her part. She has never been sure, never known, never said; she doesn't know how he feels, if he doesn't love her, if he loves her, and if he does, if it is a pure, true, open love.

It doesn't matter though.

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She feels the pain not because he doesn't love her, but because she loves him.

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Fin