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What do you do when your childhood hero is a joke and everyone loves something you're not?
Barret always asks me what I'm still angry about, and all I ever do is shrug it off. Tifa always asks what I'm sad about, but she's really talking about herself. I think that maybe Nanaki and Vincent and Yuffie have the right idea about getting out of Midgar before it swallows them whole. It wasn't even my home.
Cid's here part of the time because the aftertaste of dreams requires a pretty strong chaser.
Tifa did a good job of putting together what I was, even if it took her a while. I can't be angry at her because Midgar changed her too, even more than a scar. I think that's why we hang around the same dead place and retrace some of the same steps. Even in the deepness of her sadness, though, she'll get out. She's got that kind of gravity.
I probably would have gone crazy again without that gravity, but mostly without something to do with my hands. Cid had to show me the basics, but I picked the rest up pretty quickly. Gas engines are noisy and dirty, but the mechanisms are really kind of clean. Simple. Like when I finally put Zack's Buster to rest and made my own weapon.
Cid Highwind's not exactly the best role model, but he does have practical advice about some things.
I want to tell Barret I'm not angry, I want to tell Tifa I'm not sad. Sometimes I'm numb and sometimes I'm confused, still, but mostly I'm just looking. There's a lot of open spaces a motorcycle can go so I just go, riding towards the horizon until I get tired of trying to reach it. That's what I am, and what I'll become is still being written.
Someday I'll have the words for it.