Journal Entry #18

Mar 07, 2008 18:59

Date: December 02, 2007
Location: Orlando, Florida U.S.A.

Subject: Death

There’s so much I could really say about Charisma. So much that I honestly want to just scream to the world. But I can’t. He wouldn’t have wanted it that way, and I agree with that. I’m as much of a private person as he was. I probably got that from him.

I miss him, Cloud. I may not be his blood, bit I miss him all the same.

He died while we were taking down a pylon of Seers. A single shot through the head that had somehow gotten through his magical defenses. I watched it. I tried to save him. I couldn’t.

We had two years together.

Did I love him? Yes and no.

Were we lovers? Yes, but not like you think. I don’t expect you to really understand it. It’s just something that happens when you are fighting a war. Some of the social rules of “civilized society” just don’t make sense in a combat situation. The best way I can describe it is this: when you see so much death, when your entire world becomes about one dead body after another-more than some caused by your own hands-you just need that crush of life. You need to be consumed by passions other than rage. You need flesh on flesh contact, the rush of adrenaline that has nothing to do with fighting and everything to do with living.

I guess it boils down to the fact that you need to remind yourself just exactly why you were doing what you were doing.

Fuck, this entry makes no sense. It’s all over the place.

No. I’m not over his death.

Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
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