June 8th, 2008 at 12:49am
I loved this so much. I didn't quite know where it was going but as soon as I began to read question's were going through my mind.
And the end!! I loved the ending and I suppose in the end it is a happy ending. I would call it a happy ending anyway.
This is so well writtien!
Fab :D
Siani.x
And I always wanted to tell you – always wanted to tell you that though we might not know it yet – there’s always a reason.
Nice start, I have to say. Interesting opposing sets of ideas you have here; one thinking there's no reason, and another thinking there always is. I guess being motivated by reason makes sense, but it does mean that if you can't find the reason, you can't see the point, and that's what makes the line It didn’t have to be in plain sight for it to be there, did it? so beautiful...because it's just...true.
Am I stupid? For thinking that maybe you would listen to me just because… because I wanted you to. For thinking that maybe if I just told you there was a reason, instead of showing you the reason, that you would stop looking for it.
Perhaps their owrd used to mean more to them than it does now, so much so that they don't seem to trust him, and because of that, maybe the don't trust themselves, which is why they're wondering whether they are just being stupid to think like they are doing.
Reason reason reason reason. Stupid fucking reasons. You were smart. You asked the good questions – the ones that no one, not even I could answer. You asked the ones that were logical and illogical all at the same time. The ones that made us ponder, the ones that silenced the entire room when your angel’s voice echoed out into the air.
What’s the reason for living?
It's like they're plagued with questions, all the whys and hows that they can't quite give that illusive reason to. Because to answer a question like that is to outtalk someone, and there's a rare few that can talk themselves out of that kind of question.
You looked up at me, but your eyes were empty. It was as if you knew that nobody knew what the reason was, and oh, darling, you have no idea how much I wanted to pick you up, and hold you and kiss it and make it better.
You can really feel the desperation in their voice. All the questioner seem to want is just an answer to their question, and yet no-one can give it to them. And no amount of want from them can give that one little answer to them, because the question is just too complex.
When it’s sunk into your head that there’s no reason, maybe nobody could kiss it and make it better.
Hearts are fragile things.
These two lines are just...well, what can I say? Perfect. They're simple, but powerful; effective. It just explains it so well, and...yeah. I'm lost for words, so I'll move on.
“Maybe it’s hidden?” my question sounded disgusting and un-eloquent in comparison to yours.
Maybe it seems ineloquent in comparison to theirs because the response had just been thought of, there and then, just off the cuff, whereas the question itself, as well as being decidedly unanswerable, seems to have been something a question long thought of, and if it was a long-term, burning curiosity of theirs.
Love wasn’t enough?
All the money and the treasures in the world weren’t enough?
What could I have given you, to make you believe that reasons were sometimes not visible? What could I have done to make you stay and keep fighting?
It's like the tables have turned for a little but; now they're asking the unanswered questions. out of what? Anger? Sadness? Frustration that they couldn't give any reasons? It's like now they're the one asking for the reasons. They hows. The whats.
“They say the reasons are inv-visible,” you murmur, words slurring together now. “That th-they only appear in short b-bursts and puzzle p-pieces. I would have never thought…” you trail off, beginning to run your fingers faintly along the papery skin covering my ceramic-like bones. “You were my reason.” You finish.
And finally the levee lets loose, and the water flows out, and salt water mixes with crimson paint, and you laugh dryly again. “It’s for the best,” you whisper. “I’m not your reason.”
This is almost like their coolly thought-out questions have all run out, and now it's just them, and their exposed, broken selves. And that one, bittersweet answer from them. They weren't looking for every reason for everything; just the one, specific thing they couldn't have. They just couldn't be their reason.
“What is the reason for living?” I ask you, “In general.”
A smile crosses over your porcelain face once more, and you close your eyes. “Love.”
Reasons, reasons, reasons.
It's a pretty bittersweet ending as well; because you've got the perfect reason for living, but at the same time, you've got the impression that without love, life is reasonless. And now the one who tried so hard to give them reason if left looking for reasons themselves.
And...yeah. Awesome ending; loved reading this. :arms: