This is Me
by Karen Wood
Disclaimer: The usual. I don't own them. Others do. I'm just writing my
thoughts about the characters down and sharing. Without profiting of
course.
Summary: Isabel tries to come to terms with life and death and
love....well sorta! LOL Not that much can be *answered* in such a short
fic!
Category: Unconventional Couples
Rating: PG-13
Authors Note: The prayer is called "St. Peter's Breastplate". Even though
I'm Catholic, and it's a Catholic prayer, I heard it for the first time
about four or five years ago on a show called Nothing Sacred. Wonderful
wonderful show that didn't get a chance to survive. I'm not a very
religious person, but I loved the show for it's humanity, not because I'm
Catholic. And this prayer just stayed with me. I thought it was beautiful
and powerful.
St Peter's Breastplate
I bind myself to the strong virtue of Love...
The light of the sun,
The brightness of the moon,
The splendor of fire,
The flashing of lightning,
The swiftness of wind,
The depth of the sea,
The stability of earth,
And the compactness of rocks.
I bind myself today...
this is my life
And I love you. Not for who we were or who and how we are supposed to be.
But for who you are Michael. And who I am. Who we are together. The
reality of us. Destiny's not another word for obligation or duty, not to
me anyway. It can be a prophecy. A foreshadowing of a natural progression
of love and respect and longing and caring. Because I do you know? Love
you. Respect you. Long for you. Care about you. It's in everything I know
and everything you ignore.
these are my eyes
Do you see yourself in them? See the way I see you? The good of you. The
fierce pride of you. The loyalty and determination. The fight and fury.
And the will to survive? Because that's how I see you Michael. It's who I
love. And why I love. And who I need. I don't know why others don't see
you the way I do. In a way I'm thankful. I'd thought she saw the same
thing. And it scared me. But now I'm not so sure she knew the you I do.
And for that I'm grateful. I have the selfish want...need...to have that
clear view of who you are all to myself.
these are my hands
They killed you know. Yeah. I know you know. You were there. And you
beyond anyone else know how I feel. For your hands killed too. Another
bond we share. The knowledge of how it feels to be in control and out of
control. To take another life. What a great thing to share. But we do. And
we can't change that. Now or ever. Another destiny?
this is my breath
The breath you take away. When you run your hands through your hair. Your
wild hair. I liked that hair. Did you know that? I liked it when it was
wild and free. So much like you. Unkempt and uncontrollable. I know you
didn't plan it or anything like that. You weren't trying to make a
statement. That's my job right? Fashionplate. Super-model. Prom queen.
Princess. All about the hair and the make-up and the imagine of
all-American girl. But that's not how you see me. I can tell. And that's
another reason you take my breath away.
these are my lips
I long to kiss you. Run my lips across your lips. Those wonderfully
kissable lips of yours. Then down to the hollow of your throat. Searching
for a spot that would make you want me as much as I want you. Lingering
there when I find it....knowing I found it by the change in your
breathing....running my lips back and forth in a soft embrace of warm
smooth skin. There's so much I could do, want to do, long to do with my
lips on you.
this is my smile
Do you see it? My smile. The one I keep for you. Only you. It's different
than the one I smile at others. At Max. At Alex. At Kyle. At a thousand
and one boys who smile at me hoping to see what I keep for you. Do you
know? Do you appreciate the fact that I don't share it with just anyone? I
won't blame you if you don't. Just like I don't blame you for a lot of
things you don't see. But I hope you do and I hope I'm right when I see
you smile at me and think it's special.
this is my world
It's complicated isn't it Michael? And it's a world we both hate for
different reasons. You because you think you belong somewhere else.
Because you hate being normal and long for the world where you're
everything but. Because you HOPE you belong somewhere else. Preferring the
unknown to a past that's all too well known. And painful. I tried to save
you from that Michael. Tried to protect you from the pain. But I wasn't
strong enough. And because of that past you hate this world. And at times
I fear that you hate me for my part in it and my failure.
I hate this world for a far different reason. I hate it because it doesn't
belong to me. God I want to be normal. I want to belong here. I want to BE
the person I appear to be to everyone else. I want to forget the fact that
I'm not normal. I want to belong here. I fear the unknown preferring to
cover myself in everyday life. And I want you to be a part of my world. I
want to be the couple holding hands, going to football games, sharing
lockers, wearing class rings. I want happily ever after. And at times I
hate you for not wanting the same. For not thinking that's enough.
this is my soul
Here it is Michael. This is me. Isabel. What I am and who I am and how I
am. The good the bad and the not-so-ugly. Not on the outside at least. Is
it enough for you? Can you really see me like I think you do? The real me
buried deep down in the midst of teenage angst and out-of-this-world
drama? Can you love me in spite of our destiny? Because of it? I need you
to love me. I need you to need me. And I need you to tell me it's going to
be all right. No matter where we go. As long as we're together.
this is my heart
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