A/N: Call me pessimistic or realistic, but this be my look at love. It begins, it ends. Every time. This, however, does not mean that it is not worth chasing. Blah, got me all romantic there. Rarely happens. Nevertheless, enjoy the story, learn from it if you wish, but my experience is not necessarily true :). Have fun.
RATING: G, but it's not wimpy. Grown-up language and concepts, not for children in that they wouldn't understand it.
B/N: That means Beta's Note. I had a lot of fun beta'ing this. Grim and I have done it before, on My Sister's Doll, except he was the one making comments and I was the one defending my work. We did it after I posted it here, and after I won – it was just for fun. As was this, but then I decided I wanted to post it for him. There is no way I could make this story better, especially since this is a dream, ya peeps, so don't flame it!!!! --AsA
This place is strange. It is a forest. I think. The trees are there, and the leaves. So it is a forest, right? I guess. But the trees are strange. Colours are supposed to stay within their shapes, aren't they? But they don't. The trees stretch into infinity, touching everything. They reach the stars, reach the earth, and reach her. She touches them all, flowing with the passing of colours that pass before my eyes. How can she be everywhere at once? I try to turn my head, but I don't have to. The scene turns as far as I wanted my head to turn. There she is as well, touching everything I see. The trees circulate around her, the green goddess of my life. And I have not yet taken a step. Not yet. Now she is everywhere, touching everything with her shine. But I cannot reach her. I need not move to know that she is too far away. To reach her, I must get closer. But what might happen? What will happen to this beautiful scene, once I leave it? I dare not ask, dare not think of it. I look at her reflection. That she is. A reflection of how she can be. This is a dare, a risk. Something will be lost. Yet I dare. I take the step.
I need not put my foot down. It is already touching the ground. The forest is no more. The colours stretch and stretch, finally releasing themselves from the hollow prison that is reality. Free from their shell, they form and change. My foot has not left the ground before, guided by the colours freedom, the scenery changes. Before me is now a desert. No, not before me. Around me. Outside me. Inside me. The desert is everywhere, and I am a part of it. I can taste, feel, the colours around me and know I can now influence the world around me. Change it. I need merely ask the colours and they will comply. As long as I do not disturb their newfound freedom. I look around. Or, I want to, but it is not necessary. I make the scene turn to show me the new world. And there she is. Written in every bit of the scenery, again flowing with the colour I can now also affect. Again, she is everywhere, but now I can reach her. We pull close without moving, feeling each other, touching and loving each other. I took a step and it brought me to her. We are in a desert, and we thirst, but that is okay. For she is with me, and we will overcome. I can feel her all around me. We are drawing so close, our bodies are almost one. Yet I know that there is several places I have not yet seen, parts of her mind she has not yet spoken. These gaps are few and far between, yet my need for her grows. I have taken the first step and so, I have but no choice but to take the next. Her face changes to that of teasing curiosity when I lift my other foot and put it down.
My foot is on the ground again. The scene shifts. Now, it is a city. But it is a city in the same manner that the forest was a forest. The shapes are right, but the colours are stretched and bent. beyond the borders of reality. Yet there is a semblance of order. It stretches, but it has a pattern. Around me, people are walking. Countless thousands. Same here. I would still change it. I recognise some of them. Friends, family. This world is partially shaped by me, governed by laws I want. The colours have settled, abiding those laws. In the midst of the walking mass of people, I see her. She stands out, a lovely face in the crowd. Our bodies are now shaped to fit each other, each part fitting somewhere on her. We are together. We live together. We are as one, yet split in two. She is no longer the centre. Nothing is. We both live our separate lives, yet we are together. When we come home, we fit each other. We know what the other wants and we give it. This, you may call happiness. How much time goes by, I cannot tell. But eventually, I feel my foot itching. I know that it is time to take another step. I wish to remain, yet I realise that nothing is eternal. Changes are abroad, waiting for my permission. I can no longer resist it. Thus, I take the next step.
We are in a room, just the two of us. In this world, she is more human. She is mortal, I can see. No longer is she the green goddess, nor the gentle desert wind caressing me. She is a girl, and human. The room is split in two. On her part is her life, her life reaching the middle, where my life takes over, both separated from each other. Our separate worlds. In the middle is the double bed, split in two by the thin line. I can see in her eyes that there are things in my life she did not know about. So can I. On her part as well, things I don't know about is visible. A small crack splits the room in two. A crack formed by the little lies, the attempts to make us fit perfectly even longer. But our bodies no longer fit each other. We sleep in each our side of the bed. Now, we just live together. We are not together. The crack, I can see, is expanding. She leaves the room and I know she is not going to the mall, as she is saying. I look at the crack. It is getting wider. I watch in silence as the bed collapses into it. This time, a step is not needed, yet I take it anyway. There must be a way out of this room. I lift my foot yet again.
We are in a barren land. There is nothing around us, save for the wind. She is far away, even though I can see the tears in her face easily enough. The crack is between us. It is infinite. There is no end to its width or its depth. Yet I can see her as easy as if I could reach out and touch her. But I cannot even attempt it. To try and cross the chasm is to embrace annihilation. For the both of us. Where I to cross, I would have to build a bridge of lies and deceit and I would never reach her. We would both be trapped on a bridge between our lives until eternity ends. I can see that she regrets the steps. So do I. This is ended. As I think this, I can see the image of her crack, the barren scenery crack and collapse, like a puzzle torn apart. When it is gone, the crack is behind me. It is far away, a small scene of life now torn from me. In front of me, I now see a forest. My foot itches yet again. It is time to prepare for another first step. I lift my foot, leaving behind be barren landscape and embrace the new dream
This place is strange. It is a forest. I think. The trees are there, and the leaves. So it is a forest, right?
E/N: Well, what did you think? Grim refuses to beg for reviews, so I thought I'd do it for him.