Why is it so hard to trust someone? A simple question, with simple words. But so hard to answer, and so complex in nature. Trust. What is it? And why must we measure someone by how much we trust them?
I certainly could do without trust. I don't need to trust anyone. I'm a fighter. A warrior. I'm hard, cold, uncaring. I don't have a heart, I've been told that a million times over, as if it were something to be proud of. As if I should be proud that I've killed countless innocents, burned town after town, trained others to be the same as I, all in the name of a crusade that is driven by souls that blacken more each day from the fire of their hate. And they are the ones that tell me I have no heart. Now how am I supposed to feel about that?
I'm not. I'm not supposed to feel anything about, for I am not supposed to feel anything. But I do. I have feelings. Remorse...guilt...sorrow...pain...I know them well, all too well. Forbidden fruit that I didn't ask for. After all, who wants to feel these? Not I. I'd rather that all feelings just leave me be, I've seen what they can do.
I'm surrounded by feelings. The knight's sorrow, the king's worry, the boy's optimism. Such innocent feelings.
And then there's the girl...with her green hair and green eyes. Such an odd thing. I suppose I shouldn't call her a girl, she is my own age, after all. But...she's so child like with her innocent ways, her doll-like looks. I'm almost afraid to touch her sometimes; I worry that she'll shatter.
The girl, she...she searches for something I cannot begin to dream of wanting. Her perfect emerald eyes always shone with the hope of finding it. Love. A silly notion. A dream for a child. Which is what she is. Simply a child clinging to a teddy bear, and sucking her thumb because she doesn't know better.
Of course, if she's the child...the thief's the bear. The way she clutches to him...I just don't understand it.
The thief...maybe it's just him that I don't understand. I don't understand the way he reassures her...the way he fights a purpose I can't understand...the way he laughs with his friends one moment, then curses the heavens the next...confusion. That's what I feel for him. Confusion. Another forbidden fruit that I have not asked for.
And yet...I feel for him? I feel anything for him? I know I feel something...but I don't know what. It's so strange...and again I'm back to confusion. Back to feelings.
Feelings...who needs them? It just leads me back to confusion. All roads lead to confusion...all roads lead to him...to his wild hair confined by his ratty bandana...to his haunting eyes lined with hidden sadness...to the looks he gives my with those very eyes...
The looks...he doesn't think I notice him looking at me, but I do. I can feel his eyes inching over me, falling into my soul, trying to know my every secret. Why can't he see then, that I don't him to? I don't need him looking at me; it only adds more of a burden to my already loaded shoulders. It only adds even more confusion...
Why does he look at me so? In such a manner...no one's ever looked at me like that, it's almost...pleasant, as if it makes me makes me...makes me happy.
Happy. A foreign word. A mysterious feeling. What is happiness? It's as mystifying as trust. Tell me, though, how can I feel something I don't understand? I suppose, then, that it must not be happiness.
Still though...I feel something when he looks at me, and something else when his gaze turns to her. They seem so perfect together. She leans on him and he's strong for her. So perfect. The girl and the thief. The child and the teddy bear.
Still, it feels nice when he looks at me.
Maybe I could learn to be the girl.
Maybe just once, I could be the child.
Authors Note: This is supposed to be Celes's perspective when she and Locke meet back up with everyone else in Narshe, before the first big fight with Kefka. In case you couldn't tell, the girl is Terra and the thief is Locke. But I was hoping that was obvious.