I hate having to be happy all the time. It's expected: I'm that loud, energetic character that's always there to try to cheer you up when you're down, annoy you when you want to wallow in self-pity. The minute I don't feel like holding up that persona, everyone thinks that something's terribly wrong. The minute I want to have a moment to feel upset about something in my own life, they think that I'm stuck in some rut. They think to themselves 'Maybe he's depressed, maybe he needs help'. They think that it's time to pity me. It's the worst thing they can do. My life has been enough of a trek for me, and I've never wanted pity.
Pity is just another way for someone to have power over you. They pity you and your position below them. They see it as a way to use their power to help you and hold you to the debt you owe them. I've hit bottom, and I never accepted pity. I sure as hell wanted to, but even if you're seen as a scuff on the shoe of society, you've still got your pride.
He never pities me. He knows it makes me feel like shit. He knows the difference between pity and help. His help comes from the same level—it's no power play. It comes from that place inside that knows that a person is your equal, that every person is your equal. It's that part of you that sees someone struggling, and you know that they have the ability to rise above it, but they need a hand to help pull them from the depths. It doesn't require any sort of payback, it doesn't have regret. It comes from the part of your heart that loves humanity and that loves the one you're helping, even if you don't know their name.
It's that part of him that taught me how to love. It taught me to care for someone else enough to not have to ask anything of them or to need anything from them but their love in return. I never thought I could learn to love the way people talk about. It always seemed so fake, so idealistic. No one could ever hold back that part of human nature, that desire to use others to get what you need. Shows what growing up in the slums does to a person's idealism.
But he proves me wrong. Every day, he proves me wrong. Every time his eyes meet mine, and I see that look, he proves me wrong.
A/n: Oh, super fluff-i-luffily fluff...with a tad of angst in there...
Life is a wonderful inspiration...but so are reviews! Seriously, I've got to chide all of you who are reading and not reviewing! It makes me so saaaaad! It's like kicking a puppy! Now, are you the type to kick puppies? I don't think so...and somehow that reasoning means you should review...I think... (headscratch)
The bait for Chap 23: Reno and the Sector 7 plate. Not really Cloud involved, but probably one of my favorite chapters to date.