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He never looked anywhere anymore. Not in the way that he used to. His eyes were dull, unfamiliar without his usual glimmer.
I can’t help but feel like it may be my fault. I know it started after she left, after everything was finally over. After she kissed him, and disappeared without a trace. I don’t understand why he was ever with me if her loss affected him this much.
It’s not fair. He won’t let me help him, only brushes me off like I don’t understand what he’s going through. We all lost her that day, we all lost our friend, but he acts like he’s the only one who’s allowed to feel anything in response, like he was the only one who knew her.
Even when he is having a good time, when I take him out to see the stars, just like we used to, any sound or smile from me will push him back into his shell.
I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know where that sunshine went, but it feels like it’s my fault.
Maybe it was because I left for the force again. Maybe it’s because I chose to leave and walk away again. I can’t help it. I want to help people, it feels like it’s my only purpose after everything we’ve been through. I don’t think I would know how to settle down even if I wanted to. If he wanted me to.
I don’t know.
I’d try for him. I’d do anything for him. Anything to see that smile again. Not hollow, not half-baked, the same smile that greeted me every morning for years while we were away. That same stupid grin that he could never wipe off his beautiful face.
I miss him. I miss his dumb walk and stupid remarks. I miss when he brought up our quote-unquote rivalry every thirty seconds. I miss when we argued, I miss when he’d throw stupid insults at my face. I miss when we talked, I miss when he held me like I was something sacred, I miss kissing him behind closed doors while everyone was sleeping, I miss the way his hand would run through my hair. I miss when he loved me like I was worth it.
I’m so tired. So unbelievably tired, but I love him too much to let go. I can’t let go of him. I’ve never been able to let go of him.
I’ve been attracted to him like the earth to the sun since our first days at flight school. He was the only reason I was able to stay as long as I did after Shiro was put on the Kerberos Mission. I’ve been reliant on him since before everything, and even more so at the beginning of it. I don’t think we’d have survived without him.
When Shiro disappeared after the fight with Zarkon, I didn’t know what to do. I’d lost my brother for a second time within two years at that point. I was unraveling. I didn’t want to lead. I didn’t want to replace him.
Lance was the only reason I did it. He’s the only reason I took over. I messed up, and I went against everyone’s word. I didn’t listen to anyone, and I got us stuck. It was my fault, and I didn’t even realize it. Not until he said something. Not until he yelled at me for getting us separated.
Lance is the only reason I managed until we found Shiro. Once we found him, I walked. I left, I abandoned them. I left because I couldn’t handle the pressure, and I felt like they were better off without me.
They were all upset, of course they were, but I could see it in his eyes. I’d hurt him. He didn’t want me to leave, but I left anyway.
I shouldn’t have, I know I shouldn’t have. I know it wasn’t fair. I know that I hurt them, and that I betrayed their trust, that I made them feel like they couldn’t count on me. I hurt them and I knew it, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t do anything.
I miss Lance. I miss when he laughed at every joke, no matter how terrible it was. I miss when he beamed just because Hunk made him his favorite food. I miss when we argued and fought, only to be cuddled up together ten minutes later. I miss when he complained, I miss when he cried, and yelled, and did anything but just stare.
I miss how loud he was. I miss how annoying he was. I miss how bright he got when he was excited, when he talked about his family like they were the prettiest constellation in the skies. I miss his smile, his laugh, and his tears. How he looked at me. How he looked at her. I miss when he looked. I miss when he saw things. I miss touching him, I miss holding him, I miss talking and walking with him.
I miss my Lance.
I had him, and I lost him. It was my fault. It was her fault too, but she didn’t have a choice. I did, she didn’t. I had a choice and I chose to abandon him. It was my fault. I know it was, and I’ll never forgive myself for it. Not if he forgives me, not if she forgives me, not even if whatever deity in the sky did. I never will.
I don’t care if he hates me. I hope he does, just so he feels something. I hope he yells at me, I hope he screams, and cries. I need him to hate me. I need to know that he’s mad at me for leaving again. I need to know, so that I can fix it. I can’t fix anything if he doesn’t, and if I don’t fix it I’ll sit and simmer in my regret forever. I will anyway, but if I fix it, it’ll be easier to bear than doing nothing at all.