Through Your Eyes

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT EMPATHY CANNOT FEEL

'There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion
That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble
Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret,
Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together'
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I am closest to him, yet I am also the farthest away, for even with my gift I cannot even begin to fathom the endless depths of his heart.

Just because I can feel what another feels, does not mean that I can understand it. Does not mean that I know what causes it, why it affects them so, and if it's sad, or negative, how I can help them.

You know what they say about assumptions. Guess wrong, and I may be met with anger, with rage, with indignation.

So quietly I feel, and try to understand the emotions that fill his heart, emotions that are such a contradiction to his bright smile.

I think that I am the one who understands the most his need for a mask. Oh yes—I am well aware that he wears a mask, despite some people's opinion of my naivety. We have spent so much time together, there had to be moments—even if they were just that, mere moments—where the mask cracked, just a bit. A phrase, an expression, a word, an emotion. Small things, but they all add up to a simple conclusion—he wears a mask, like we all do, a mask of laughter and happiness.

The things I sometimes feel from him...are so deep, so dark, so broken that I can hardly imagine how he stands to keep them all inside, how he stands them in the first place.

How does he not fall in the face of such sorrow, such pain?

I may know what plagues his heart, but that is not the same as knowing why it plagues his heart.

He calls me friend, calls me brother, but he will not tell me why he is so sad and empty. Will not tell me why he feels so lonely.

It hurts that he feels he cannot trust me. And that is the one thing I do feel from him, whenever the mask slips in front of me, that I can understand.

That mistrust. That fear. He is so deeply afraid of what I, what we, think of him, that he will never voice the pain he feels.

Even if underneath it all, there is one more emotion that is always there, the only other that I can even begin to fathom. It resides so deep within his heart, I am not even sure if he is aware of it.

It is a burning desire, to speak, to be understood, to tell someone of what he feels and have them simply listen. But he will not act upon it. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe not ever.

And no matter how much I may wish to, I will not ask. I will not pry. If he wishes to bear this burden alone, then bear it he will, because that is how he is—so stubborn, so determined. But eventually, eventually he will not be able to bear it anymore.

Eventually something will come—a day, a moment, a phrase, a word, an expression, an emotion that will break the walls that he has built so high, overwhelm them and destroy them.

But until that day comes I will always be here, with this heart that feels but cannot fathom, until the mask finally shatters and falls, and cannot be fixed.

Well, here we have it again. I am on a roll with this, yeah. I decided that Quatre should be a little more aware of what goes on in Duo's heart, even if he can't understand it. But note this, because it will be slightly important later—Quatre said that he understood his need for a mask. Chew on that, and wait until Trowa's chapter.

Keep an eye out for the next chapter, too, which should be up soon—What Justice Cannot Fix.

DISCLAIMER: I hold no claim to Gundam Wing or any related franchises. The quote belongs to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. You know what belongs to me.