全て受け止めて

When I wrote stories, I never tried very hard to sympathize with Tea. I cast her as the sweet, understanding girl, the one who may not have Markal's spark or Yugi's wisdom or Serenity's passion or Seto's intensity or Mai's intelligence or Joey's fire, but who's always there, taking what life gives her, trying to help out, trying to be a good person. I never paid much attention to her inner life.

But let's give it a shot now. Let's imagine how she felt when I ripped Yugi away from her. Let's picture her sitting in her living room, late at night, knowing she should be asleep but dreading the time of lying in bed before drifting out of consciousness, because she knows that conversations with Yugi will replay in her head, that she'll see again the distant look in his eyes and his smile that had nothing whatsoever to do with her. Flipping through the TV channels, wanting distraction and at the same time repulsed by the flippant happiness or overdone drama of the shows that flash by. Tracing her hands over the buttons on her cell phone, seized with an impulse to call Mai, perhaps...and say what? Everyone is so happy for Yugi, so happy that he's finally finding himself, finally walking with an extra bounce in his step, after years of confusion and guilt, of feeling convinced that the fault lay with him and he just didn't know how to make anyone happy. Because he couldn't make her happy. They had never been happy. So what could she say? That she wants Yugi back? But she doesn't. It never felt right and it never would. So what then? That if she can't have him, no one should? That he should spend his whole life regretting his sexual orientation because it keeps them from being together? Of course she doesn't want that. She doesn't want anything but what's happening. She puts the phone down. There's nothing she can say. She has no legitimate complaints.

Yet there must be something so painful, so frustrating, about being confronted with her exclusion from that side of his life. With the fact that someone else reaches a part of him that she can't. When they're together, and his eyes lock on her, his smile is just for her, then she can feel that it doesn't matter, that their friendship is independent of Markal, of everything, that it exists on its own terms. But then he'll mention Markal, or Markal will call him, or show up, and she's reminded of her second-place status. Second place in a race she doesn't want to win, she tells herself. And true as that is, it doesn't stop the jealousy. And we all know Tea; she would loathe herself for feelings that seemed to go against the interests of her friends. So on top of the pain she piles guilt and anger at herself.

Maybe her new boyfriend calls her now. Asks how she is. She can't hide the dejection in her voice, but she tells him she's just tired. She loves him. Things are going so well; he's romantic, gentle, insightful, artistic, and he looks at her with desire. Makes her feel beautiful and powerful. This has promise, real promise; she can already see their life together, the life she's always wanted. What can she say? She's feeling bad because Yugi is happy? A fresh wave of anger washes over her. Her feelings don't make sense; how can she feel jealous of Markal when she knows she wouldn't be happy with Yugi? How can she want him to have the best life possible, and want him to be heartbroken over her at the same time? She can't explain to anybody, can't ask for advice because she doesn't need any, there are no alternate paths to choose between.

But carrying these contradictions inside her head, I imagine, wears and wears on her. She doesn't want to be with Yugi, no, not in this universe, but she can't quite let go of the existance of another, one in which she's the person his eyes light up like that for. It wouldn't be a better world. She doesn't wish herself there if it meant giving up this life, this new relationship. But she feels loss. Wistfulness over possibilities that don't quite exist, things that can never quite happen. Who can she talk to? When everyone wants to give advice and there's none to be given? When she can't explain how she feels without sounding like a bad friend? Like she's not happy for him. She is happy for him. But it's not that simple. She wants someone to understand all this. She can't keep up a conversation with her boyfriend; she excuses herself to bed, tells him she loves him. It's not a lie, but she hates hiding her feelings from him. It's not her nature. But she has no choice. She hangs up.

Now she's alone again with the TV. She fights a sudden unhealthy impulse to call Yugi, to make him talk to her; if he sounds friendly enough, concerned enough, maybe she can fall asleep remembering how strong their friendship still is. If she lets him hear the sadness in her voice, maybe he'll say something sweet, something affectionate, that she can cling to to keep her perspective. But Yugi's probably asleep, or if not asleep, hanging out with Markal. She can't interrupt that; she has no right. So she heads to bed, and lies there, scolding herself, reasoning with herself, fighting with herself, until she finally tumbles into sleep.

Perhaps this is what a night in the life of Tea felt like, after Yugi left her. Oh she'll be okay; she'll have a good life. But maybe I should have thought more about the internal struggle I left her with. Because everyone's life is full of contradictions, unrealizable desires, wistfulness. Even when they're just the boring, kind, understanding one to whom no one gives much sympathy. Even when life is good, when you wouldn't change anything...it can still hurt, right?

It's the only possible song to quote from:

Stay free my misery,
手を伸ばせば感じる、その痛み両手で受け止めて。
Stay free your misery,
愛しさも憎しみを全て受け止めて、そのまま。
Stay free my misery...