I used to love the rain. As a kid in the lower sectors, we used to dance and play in it. I liked to sit on the stoop and watch the kids, listening to the sound of the thunder, and the piddle-pat of the rain hitting the roof. I'd close my eyes and dream of a new future. Of a time when I could provide for my brother, work the job I enjoy, hell, maybe raise a family. Who knew—maybe I'd retire early and become that crazy old grandpa.
Now, I can't take rain. It's been raining for almost a week now. Now, instead of being this process for new life, it's become this poetic adaptation for depression. It reminds me of the night I walked out, when you called me Zack. When you chased me out into the street at all hours in the morning, barefoot, and you shivered ever so slightly, making me pull you into my arms. When you made me promise that I'd never leave you alone. Such a hypocrite. Who's sitting here now, looking out the window, waiting, alone?
It's me, Cloud.
Not you.
Me.
What happened to us? You changed. Maybe I changed. Maybe we could have made it for the better. But now I'll never know. In the end, you hurt me. And I feel like you've stripped something away from me that was rightfully mine. I lick my wounds, but I don't ever see them getting better.
And now, I've started to see what you mean. Nothing lasts forever. We have to let ourselves go. If we don't know what we want, then how can we be together? "If you don't know, then you can't care." The only words of wisdom my Pa ever gave me. Our last few months, you'd show up, but you weren't there. Here I'm waiting, and if you want to…? But you're still afraid that I will desert you.
I've realized that thinking this much is making it worse than just having you leave. I'm agonizing over things. I swear, my brain finally comprehends what you said to me…its better that we break away. I want to believe that it's the best for us. The best thing to make you happy, in turn making me happy. But you know what, Cloud?
I'm a selfish bastard.
And when I find something I want? Something I need? Somebody that I've found I can't live without? I'll kick and bite and fight for that. I fought for you. So hard, Cloud. It hurts.
Can I give up?
Some people say that I'm not worth it. I've made mistakes but no body's perfect.
In the end, I have one last chance to get myself together. I can't loose much more time—it's now or never.
Maybe, if I could see you one more time, I could deck you, or hug you, or kiss you, or fuck you, and then—maybe then, I can get over you. Not that I want to—but I need some kind of true release from you. I need my brain to stop thinking like this.
It's a rainy day like this that I get a knock at my door, pulling me from havin' a goddamn pensive moment. I don't want to open the door. It's no one I'd actually want to see—solicitor, charity shit, maybe a friend that wants to "comfort" but ends up making it worse. But as the door slowly opens, the knob under my hand, I see locks of blonde hair, matted down from the downpour, looking up at me with empty, blue eyes. A face I didn't want to see. The face I've needed to see for months.
A stray kitten on my doorstep.
And who am I not to take it in?
A/n: Neko Cloud. How many double meanings there are for that. laughs Or at least, the way I write my Reno/Cloud's.
Yes, another chapter of angst. It seems inspiration is coming fast. Penned this one down in about 20 minutes, half asleep, so if it sucks, me apologizes.
The next chapter---the beginning of the healing!