Between the Lies

You know, there is something I watch every time I can, every fucking time. Every evening, if it's only possible. And when I watch it, I think of you.

It's the sunset.

Know why? Because it reminds me of you, in a stupid way. I'm just a fool like that, I can't let go. Even though it's all so in the past. Even though I can't know if you ever wake up again to look at me in that icy cold way of yours and scold me for tardiness or dock my pay. Yeah, I even miss that. See? That's what feelings do to people. You're such a lucky son of a bitch for not having those at all.

What was I at? Ah... sunsets. You know, they are like... little rituals, every time. Like something in the world changes every time the sun sets and stars appear on the darkening sky. Like something in me changes... and maybe it really does. I don't know. Crap, it's my attempt at philosophy, right? I can sound strange now, it's not the best of moods I'm in.

Because I miss you. Elena tells me you're doing better, but I don't believe a fuck she says. She'd been telling me that for the last few months. I know she's worried, she cares for you like crazy, and she wants to fool herself. I'm letting her, and yet I don't trust her judgement in the least.

I saw you in there, once. Connected to all those strange pipes, supplying you with minerals and oxygen and whatever else you need. You don't breathe by yourself. You don't move. You probably don't feel what the hell's going on around you. You're as good as a plant. I can't look at you like that. It hurts.

It should have been me on that bed.

I'm the irresponsible one, right? The one that will get killed sometime soon just because I'm so stupid. My laziness will lead me to the grave, remember? And my carelessness. And, uh, whatever it is that is lethal for a Turk.

Shit, I'm getting all emotional right now. Just staring at that sunset. Thinking too much. It's my day off today. They let me go today, to mind my own business this once. I guess it's because they know what it means to me. Today... well, it's stupid sentimental shit, but last year on the exact same day, you were stabbed by that crazy fuck Sephiroth. I clearly remember waiting for you at your apartament back at the ShinRa Building, waiting for you and wondering what the fuck you'd wanted from me again.

You didn't return from that Temple of the Ancients and, when you were lying there alone, about to die, I was bitching to myself about what a freaking irritating bastard you were.

Oh yeah, I do feel guilty. Like never before. And knowing that none of it is my fault doesn't help a fucking bit. I just... can't help it. I only got worried when you didn't come to scold me the whole night. Worried and angry. And, you know what? I killed more people than I could count. Never been that good at counting, anyways. Hadn't it been for you, I wouldn't even know how to spell my own name, right? Yeah, well. I killed people. I kidnapped, damn, I fucking blew up Sector Seven, and yet there's no guilt in me for that. But your condition... I can't understand it. I had nothing to do with it.

And yet I feel as if it was my fault, just because I cussed you out when you were there, dying.

Fuck, I love you so fucking much, it hurts to even realise it from time to time. I'm scared to think about it, most of the time. Because when I do, I keep remembering things... like the way your eyes softened each time you looked at some new injuries I had, just before docking my pay. Or the way you would sometimes smile at my stupid drunken joke, only to tell me off later for wasting myself again.

It's not unrequieted, is it? You're just a perfect liar. Or maybe, just as always, I'm stupid enough to imagine things? Maybe those are no memories, but simply alcohol-induced fantasies I've dreamt up sometime to give myself false hope. I'm good at that.

Will you wake up sometime soon, if only to scold me and tell me what a stupid slacker I am? Because, Tseng, it's been a year. You'd spent a year in that hospital, and even the President is in a better state than you. He heals nicely, and he's thinking a lot nowadays. It's been a long year without you. We need you. Wake up, please. Don't let me fool myself like I always do, okay? Wake up, dock my pay, call me a slob and don't leave anything for my hope to hold on to. Don't let me read between your perfect lies.

Hey, the sunset's red today. Tomorrow will be a beautiful day.