Tales From The Heart
By Lariel
General Disclaimer: Characters owned by MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit gained by this.
This story contains references to women loving each other in an intimate way. Nothing graphic at all, but if this offends, please don’t read any further.
Thanks to the Bard: All hail Kamouraskan without whom this story would’ve been much shorter and more one sided.
Comments welcome: I’d love to know what you think.
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From one heart.....
Give me back my heart.
It’s not yours and I don’t want you to have it anymore. I want it back now. It hurts too much when it’s in your hands, and I don’t think I can stand this pain anymore. I’m so afraid that I’m losing you - that I’ve lost you already and there’s not a thing I can do about it. And that fear is killing me. The fear of not being in control of myself. Of us. I’m not used to feeling this helpless, but that’s what you do to me. You made me feel.
Give it back. You have no use for it now. You proved that last night, when you spat venomous words onto it; when you tore into it with your corrosive anger and watched me bleed silent tears onto our bed. You used to hold me when I cried; when my howling mind screamed me awake, when the only thing that would bring me back was the strength of your arms binding me to you, the warmth of your heart that soothed and revived a soul frozen and so tired of life. I loved you so much even then - more than you ever knew. But last night you turned ice green eyes towards me and watched as my life slowly seeped away, pooling with my tears on your breast as I begged you to stay. I am in agony, and I don’t think you even know. Or maybe you just don’t care anymore.
And I gave my heart to you so willingly. Do you how hard that was for me to do?
I don’t give up my heart to just anyone.
But I wanted you to have it and I trusted that you’d take care of it for me. I remember when you realised you were holding it for the first time; you smiled in disbelief and your eyes shimmered like polished jade lying on a river bed. Baptised in their light and your love; it was the most glorious moment of my life. You took my heart and you cupped it in your hands so carefully, like you were cradling a tiny, terrified bird and you stroked it so gently that I barely felt your touch, like a whispered word caressing my skin. I remember how that felt - to this day, I remember. The quivering that shook my whole being - how can such a tiny organ control me so? How can I have let you control it?
I want it back - give it back, damn you! While it still beats. While there’s life still left in me!
Maybe I could give it to another, find someone who will want it. It’s not too late for me. Someone who won’t bruise it and tear it, like you have over the last few months. I don’t understand how you could do that to me? Please, help me understand?
You said once that you loved me. I don’t think you do now. I wonder if you ever really did?
What did I do to make you stop loving me? The words that you threw at me yesterday, the resentment and the bitterness - where did they come from? I never knew you felt like that about me - why didn’t you ever say? Maybe I took you for granted......maybe I took your love for granted too much. My battered heart is lanced with poisoned barbed words and with every feeble beat, those words bury themselves deeper between us, until they are all that’s left - they fill my mind. This terrible, twisting pain is all I have to remind me that this is real. This is really happening to me. I am losing you.
Have I already lost you? What could I do to make you love me again?
But I don’t want your love! I can live without you, and I’d be happy! Probably happier without you! I was happy before I met you! All I need is for you to give me back my heart and then I could get on with my life. It’s not yours, it never was!
Who am I kidding?
It’s yours. To take it from you would destroy me.
So, what do I do now?
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To another....
To see her like this kills me. How can I live with myself, knowing what I am doing to her?
I can’t.
So now what? Do I stop, and smile and tell her that I love her, and that everything will be alright? Like I always do? And take her in my arms and kiss the tears away and promise her that things will always be fine between us? I would give anything to be able to do that - I want her to be happy, and selfishly, I want to be the one making her happy. I want to be the one to bring that smile to her face - the one she keeps only for me, to hear that tone in her voice when she speaks only to me. To be loved by a woman like her - it is an awesome responsibility.
I can carry her heart, and I want to so much. I have held it so carefully for so long now - longer than she knows. Cradling it so gently, like it was a precious bird’s egg, needing to be hatched into full life through continued nurturing, needing to watch over it every second of every day. Such a fragile thing; too easily split open, and the fledgeling inside would be so quickly destroyed. I wanted to grow your love, my love, and I would gladly be the keeper of your heart.
But I can’t be responsible for your soul too. It’s too much. I can’t carry the burden you’re putting on me. I can’t be your life.
I have to live mine, too. And I want us to share our lives and to grow old together. I want nothing more than to sleep by your side and make love with you until we have to end our time together. To walk with you and ride with you; I want to be with you so much that it hurts.
You hurt me, love. And most of the time, you don’t even know it. You toss me your heart, then skip away and expect me to keep it safe for you. Well, I will and I have, as best I could, but I need you to take it back sometimes. Because I need to take care of my own too - you won’t do that for me. Sometimes lately, I feel as though I’m the warrior here, fighting to protect all of us - and the ironic thing is, it reminds me of our early time together. I don’t think you ever really knew how I felt then. Probably my fault - I used to talk about everything in those days, but never how deeply hurt I was by that casual, uncaring attitude you had towards me. I was so afraid, you see, of how much I needed you even then. I’ve never been able to tell you that. I never really was strong enough to cope on my own. But you helped me to be, and I’ll always be grateful for what you taught me, love.
But once I was strong enough, you expected me to cope for us both, didn’t you? You handed me everything, and never looked back. But what about me? Did you ever wonder how I felt; how the load you’d put on my shoulders was steadily wearing me down? I can be your conscience, and I will safeguard your heart, and I will even fight and kill for you these days, but I need you too. I need you to hold me sometimes, and kiss my tears away, like you used to. I need you to be the woman I fell in love with - I need her back. You don’t hear my screams in the night, because they’re locked away in that place where my stories used to be and they can’t find their way out. I’m so scared of what I’m becoming, and I need you to tell me its okay and that we’ll be okay.
Instead, you just tell me how much you need me.
I know you love me, but I need to hear you say it and I need you to show me. Really show me - not just through sex. Sex is all we have lately - we haven’t really made love in a long while. We haven’t talked in a long while. I just don’t know how to talk to you any more.
Funny, huh? The great bard - can’t write a story and can’t talk to the woman she loves. Can’t tell her how much I’m hurting, unless it’s through screaming, bile filled words that stab straight into the heart and destroys the relationship that sustains us both.
This is killing us both, isn’t it my love?
So, what do we do now?