TB: Why did it hurt so bad?

Why is it still hurting so bad? 

Sara had no idea why her old wounds refused to heal properly. She was still struggling with the ghosts of her past relationships. She saw Tara just once after so many years apart and it was enough to send her into a spiral of self-doubt and pain. Today things were different, weren't they? She was a successful artist, people loved her, they worshipped her... she even found love with Homelander. Didn't she? He loved her, didn't he? Still, the sight of Tara made her crumble to the point of having panic attacks. Tara's words cut deep, way too deep and Sara felt vulnerable again. It shouldn't be a surprise, after all, Tara always made sure Sara knew she didn't deserve her. Tara was the one people wanted. She was beautiful, she had charisma, and she was clever. Hell, she was even richer than Sara when they were dating. When they were outside and Sara was not in her Unnamed Girl persona (and appearance), it was Tara who was under the spotlight. She was perfect and Sara felt inadequate in that relationship. To compensate for what she perceived was lacking, Sara started to behave like a servant. She was at the beck and call of Tara always went above and beyond for her. She erased so much of her personality to serve Tara's every whim and feed on her narcissistic traits. Still... it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Sara was never good. 

It impacted her so much that even years later, the singer felt knots in her stomach. She remembered the day Tara left her, out of boredom -which was the official reason she gave Sara when in truth, she couldn't handle the rise to stardom of her girlfriend-. Sara was devastated. She was boring? She was suffocating? She shouldn't be affectionate lest she takes the risk of being left... She shouldn't be talking about what she loved the most  (her art) nor should she try to embrace her true personality. Tara wanted to destroy her but didn't succeed and since her perfect toy was now broken, she decided to discard it. Sara didn't come to this conclusion, even after all these years. She couldn't see that her ex-girlfriend had just used her for her own pleasure. She didn't realize that even now, after their last encounter, it was just a matter of ego. She wanted to show Sara that the singer could never get over their breakup, and she wanted to rub in her face her own success. It didn't work, at least, not officially. Sara stood her ground but the minute she left, the minute she broke down. 

Why did it still hurt so bad? Why couldn't she just move on? 

She did move on. After Tara there was Brett but he was worse than Tara because he abused her physically and emotionally when Sara didn't do what he wanted her to. With such a bad relationship there was no mystery as to why she couldn't move on from Tara.. or Brett. With Homelander, things were different. He was not abusive to her. He didn't ask her to forsake her real personality. He cared for her. He took care of her. He loved her and Sara was thriving. He was the first person to ever show her genuine affection and she was worried sick about losing it all because of her mistakes... because of who and what she was deep down that he could find unpleasant. Because... she existed.  Sara walked in a circle for a moment before she grabbed her phone, and doom-scrolled for a minute before she threw it against the wall and screamed in frustration. She needed to heal from her past. She needed to heal. She needed to move on otherwise she would never be free from Tara and Brett's ghosts, but could she tell Homelander about the pain these two inflicted on her? Could she bring herself to show such vulnerability? Could she? 

-TBC-

DOYA SHORT: And the whole world came back

DOYA SHORT: And the whole world came back 

A/N  ‘At times, I forget they are broken.’

 

“I want to save the world because you are in it.” Oya whispered to Dean, thinking he was asleep. He had not had a decent sleep-in weeks, so she didn’t want to wake him up so early that day. Her hazel eyes stared at the ceiling while her fingers traced her scars -a weird habit she took a while ago to self-soothe- she couldn’t say more, because words couldn’t be trusted. Her whole soul wanted to scream her love for the hunter but her lips were tightly shut. Her hair cascaded on her shoulders and back as she sat on the bed, looking at her hands in the bedroom that was merely lit by the moonlight.  Her hazel eyes focused on her hands, on those scars she earned when she hunted the Asanbosam. Her recklessness almost killed her and if it wasn’t for Dean’s intervention, she would have been dead by now.

 

Oya was weary of the good things in this life because they tended to be short-lived. But with Dean things were different. She simply couldn’t let go. Dean was a good thing in the wasteland that was her life and as time went by, her nightmares changed as well. It took a while after the death of the Asanbosam, for Oya to make peace with her family slaughter. She thought that maybe, now that she’d face her pain, the nightmares would go away, but they didn’t, they simply changed. Instead of dreaming of the death of her family, she was now dreaming of the death of the love of her life and her chosen family.

 

Nights and nights of being afraid to lose her three boys that kept plaguing her, even getting more intense as the days went by. Nights and nights of dreading to watch any of them die in front of her, taking away with them a piece of her soul. That night, she was still queasy from the short-lived daydream she had about losing Dean again and it shook her to the core. She should be used to it, shouldn’t she? She should toughen up, be less emotional, be ready to lose him shouldn’t she? Yet, as her hazel eyes averted from her hands to the man lying next to her, she couldn’t help but smile and cry a couple tears. “Because a world without you is not worth living. It’s not...” She whispered and wiped away her tears.  

 

Stupid! Stupid! Oya hated to be this vulnerable but at the dead of the night, when her mind was plagued with fear, all she could do was self-soothe and cry. Her whole body began to shake as she sobbed in her hands. The whole world became darkness and only the pale moonlight that badly lit the room brought a shred of hope into this room. Her muffled sobs were interrupted by a single groan and Dean’s croaked voice “Oya.” And with a single word, the whole world came back.

I can't give you all my tears

I can't give you my tears, I've cried all of them before we even met. What's left inside of me is melancholia. It's following me like a flee after sugar. I used to be scared of it, I used to refuse it but I am tired. You slammed the last nail in my coffin and forced me to stare at Melancholia straight in its eyes.What a wreck I am, what a mess... but I am prepared, I know how it feels already so it's easier this time. It's like comfortable sleepers or a nice pillow. It's just there like the kidney to my body, insufferable companion in the solitude I put myself in. I can't give you all my tears, not even when I want to give you storms and hurricanes.. not even when I want to beat the pulp into you for making me feel this way.. not when I want to get rid of my own-self for simply existing.. for having believed only a second it could have been... possible. I am ashamed, I am upset. I am quiet. I am resigned. I let it be and I feel numb. I can't give you all my tears.. not even if you did deserve all of them.