Arguing with you was like arguing with a tree with the exception that I would get farther with the tree than I ever would with you. Even as I tried to tell you that my infection was my own fault you still insisted that you should have been there to protect me and, yes, part of me wished that you were there to protect me. It was the logical part of myself that knew that if you had been there you probably would have been infected, too, and it probably would have been by me. It was hard enough for me to accept that I'd had a part in spreading the infection that had racked my body, I would never be able to forgive myself if I had infected you. I flinched as you pointed out the scar on my side that I'd tried to keep hidden. I should have known that I would never be able to keep anything hidden from your keen eyes. "It doesn't matter." I said weakly, but I thought my voice was probably lost because you were continuing to talk. "Its healed and I didn't feel it. And besides, it makes me look like a hard-ass."

I hated this. I hated that we were shouting at one another when all I wanted was for you to hug me and hold me and make me feel safe and protected and loved like when we were young. Every little argument we had was like a dagger in my chest, twisting its way closer to my heart until the tip of it finally pierced it and bled every drop of feeling and emotion from my entire being. I could feel the blade getting closer and closer to its target and when you shouted at me what you had meant by glowing gold my heart was finally pierced. Tears flooded my eyes and I had to look away from you to ... anywhere else. The ground, my hooves, the tree tops, the squirrel that sat perched on a branch watching us as if we were the most fascinating thing it had ever seen. It didn't hurt my feelings that you had called me gorgeous. What hurt was that I wasn't gorgeous enough to keep you from disappearing and leaving me behind.

Then you dug the knife deeper by telling me goodbye.

"And if I don’t tell you goodbye, If I don’t, if we just sort of piddle around doing what we’re doing and you-- Or if I-- I didn’t tell Ho--I didn’t tell him— .... I never said ‘goodbye’ to him. And now it’s too late.”

"I didn't, either!" I cried out when you brought up Hototo. The last time I had seen he had hardly spoken a word before he flew away and left me behind. The time before that he had promised me that he would visit me and he never did. It was right around the same time you left and it started the never ending pattern in my life of everyone I loved leaving me behind. You. Hototo. Momma. Daddy.

“If something happened to you and I never got the chance to…to say…”

"Don't tell me goodbye." I repeated myself. "Just ... don't. Please don't tell me goodbye." Could you not see how much it hurt me? I didn't want to hear the finality of it. I just ... I didn't want to hear it. "Please. Goodbye .... it means going away and I don't want you to go away. I want you here with me. It means so much time passing that you forget the important stuff and ... and ... I don't want to forget." I whispered. "I want to remember everything." I tried to keep my voice from cracking, but it was impossible. I tried to will away my tears, but they slowly made their way down my cheeks. "I want to remember your voice and the way you look at me because no one looks at me the way you do. I want to remember your silly blue hair and the way your face looks when you're embarrassed. And ... I want to remember how much I love you. I don't want that to fade away with time."

"."

@[Roskuld]