Running up that Hill

Just something I started typing up while listening to one of my favourite Placebo songs. Written from a male's P.O.V. A song fic type thing I guess. hmm...

I don’t know how to explain it, for where do I even begin? How can I possibly put into words the way it feels to watch the person you love in the state that she’s in? It’s not right. None of this is right. I’ve lived the wrong life, the dangerous life, the life that was not meant to last. She’s been so good. Why does she have to suffer?

Maybe this is how Karma gets back at me, for all the wrongs, and for the lack of all the rights I could have made. Here, I must sit, and watch; forever until she turns into a memory that I will never be able to forget. This way it will never leave me, it will find me every morning when I wake and expect to see her there. It will find me in the night time when I expect to hear her speak to me, her voice a lullaby, to carry me off to sleep. Life, Karma, God, whatever- it keeps me alive, it keeps me from feeling the hurt that she does… so that I can suffer a more intolerable punishment. One that does not sting or burn… well… not in the way that it stings or burns her anyway.

Doesn't hurt me

You wanna feel how it feels

You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me

You wanna hear about the deal I'm making

You, you and me,

I understand now, but still, I cannot accept it… I deserved the pain. I still deserve the pain. I will always deserve the pain.

And if I only could

Make a deal with God

And get him to swap our places

Be running up that road

Be running up that hill

Be running up that building

I wish she could speak to me because the silence screams so loud it numbs my senses. Just the gentle, slow, terrible beeping that follows the beats of her heart and reminds me that she’s slipping away. Sometimes I wish she could speak because then she could scream at me, yell at me, tell me how much it hurts- maybe tell me how much she wishes it would be me that’s hurting. I don’t know why I wish this; I just do, even though she would never say such things. Even now, even in the state she is in, whenever she manages to look at me, she smiles.

If I only could

All the bad decisions I’ve ever made come rushing back to me in that small moment when blinks her eyes at me and smiles through pale and chapped lips. The drugs and the alcohol, the money I lost, and the jobs that I couldn’t keep. I wonder why she ever stayed by me, a nobody. She could have had a somebody. She could have been a somebody. I held her back with all those times she had to bail me out, and with all those times she had to pick up the pieces.

Those are the things that come back to me with every smile she gives me, as I realise that each smile, as it ends, could have been her last. I smile back, but it never feels the same. I hate myself every time she looks at me. A pretty girl like that shouldn’t have so many tubes piercing through her skin. A pretty girl like that shouldn’t have to take so many pills. A pretty girl like that shouldn’t need chemo.

You don't wanna hurt me

But see how deep the bullet lies

Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder

And there's a thunder in our hearts, baby

How many promises could I make to her now? That I’d change, and that I’d be a better person…

So much hate for the ones we love

And then a day comes when she doesn’t smile at me. When she doesn’t even open her eyes to look at me… and every thing inside me turns to black.

Tell me we both matter, don't we

You

You and me

You and me won't be unhappy

In my own little selfish way I want her to look at me, to smile again, to reassure me. She has to be okay. So that I can be okay...