14-Sep-2000
i wrote this in honor of phoenix's birthday (howdy, neighbor!) but it went in a different direction than i wanted it to, and i'm not sure she'll like it. oh, well, at least it's a present!
DISCLAIMER: Sunrise, Bandai et al own GW, and I own nothing. Suing would be pointless.
WARNING: 1+2, POV, angst-ish, yaoi-like
*=emphasis
Yesterday, at 3:16pm, it was exactly six months, two weeks, and and five days since Duo and I became lovers. I keep track, because I've never known anything like this. I quantify, I compartmentalize, I try to take this relationship, label it neatly, and stow it away, ordered and sensible. I'm failing.
It's my *own* mission, and I'm failing.
I *know* my feelings for Duo. They're tumbled and twisted, entwined, but I can count them and I can name them. I love him. I want him. I desire him. I lust for him. At times, I dislike him. But always, always, I *need* him.
That one scares me.
I'm swallowed up. There is no longer a 'me' without him. I try to look at him objectively: a too-thin boy with a big mouth and bony shoulders, snorting soda out his nose as he laughs over a perverted manga.
He leaves wet towels on the floor, he *never* cleans his hair from the drain, if he's out of clean underwear he'll wear a dirty pair inside-out. He clips his toenails *in bed*, he leaves jelly in the peanut butter jar, and he uses my *toothbrush*. A lot.
I'm trying too hard, aren't I?
Because those things aren't really the problem. They're just what I say, to make it his fault. Really, I can put up with anything, as long as I have Duo. No, the problem is mine.
I can be writing a report, or eating lunch, or anything-- it doesn't matter. I'll hear him laugh or see him walk by, and I'll *know*. Someday he'll die, and every part of me that ever lived will die with him, and the question won't be *if* I'll kill myself and follow him, but how soon.
It's come to this: I need Duo more than I need anything else. I look inside myself and there is not one part of me -not one feeling, one thought, one memory, *nothing*- that has not been touched or changed or influenced by Duo. There *is* no me - there is just 'us'.
But that scares me and my breath catches and my heart pounds and everything closes in. I stop what I'm doing and I get up and I *run*, so fast that I'm through the door before the chair I knocked over falls to the floor.
I hurt him when I do that, I know. I see the tears shimmering in his eyes, unshed. It's almost funny, really. He thinks he hasn't shown me *enough* love, that he hasn't yet touched my granite heart. Whenever I'm cold to him, he'll spend *days* being extra loving towards me, giving little kisses and quiet touches; trying to *reach* me, trying to let me know he wants to be a part of me.
But he's *already* a part of me. He doesn't realize that's *why* I run.
It has to stop. I'm hurting him, and it's as if I'm ripping out my own heart. How am I supposed to *function* like this? I'm useless. I can't go on a mission without worrying about Duo; if he's ok, has he been hurt? He comes back with a bruise, and I want to *kill* the bastard who hurt him. If he were in trouble, I'd scrap the mission to get to his side. I'd let *everyone* die, if it meant he would live. I know it, and I don't care.
I *still* don't care, really, although I know that I should. My needs, my desires, my... happiness, should not come at the cost of other people's lives. Not at the cost of the mission.
That's why I'm here, on a different colony, under a different name, on the cold floor of an empty apartment, head resting on my knees.
It's been one day, eight hours, and 10 minutes since I left Duo. Sartre said "Hell is other people", but he was wrong. Hell is being alone after you've gotten *used* to other people.
It's been one day, eight hours, and 11 minutes since I left Duo.
...12 minutes...
...13 minutes...
....
END END END
that's it. what did you think? sorry it wasn't the *happiest* of birthday fics.
(:./hyuy/days)
