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Title: "Forever Alive"
Author: Juliana (me!)
Rating: PG? R? I never know how to rate a fic...
Category: Liz’s POV around "Cry Your Name", "It's too Late...", ... ending of S2...
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas and my computer...
Feedback: I know people don't usually like these small POVs, but PLEASE, tell me what you thought about this...
Author's Note: ANOTHER POV... I know, I know... I just LOVE this lil' pieces... Oh, and grammar, sp mistakes, blame my first language...
Dedication: Kay, thanks for the help and support! priszm, for being a sweetie, and helping me with the title! Gaudy, no need to say anything right? *happy*
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"Forever Alive"


"Till death do us part." That must be the stupidest vow ever made. Till death do us part. Death's come our way, but he is still with me.

Dead. But not really dead. It's my secret. He's alive.

You see, a person can die in so many ways... and I'm not talking about causes of death, like cancer, AIDS, or getting hit by a truck. Maybe you don't know, but a person can die and their brain still work, their heart still beat. It's not the physical that counts, but the inside, the essence, the soul.

A person can have their mind dead, and only think of themselves, or nothing at all. A person can have their feelings dead, being a rock, not caring about others' feelings, or not feeling anything at all. But the worst death would have to be a person's heart. Not the organ, but psychologically speaking. If your heart dies, then it's all over.

That's why he's dead. His heart is gone. He no longer thinks. He no longer feels. He no longer loves. He just... lives.

It's a big contradiction, I know. But it's real. It's just like... smiling a sad smile. Or laughing a sad laughter. Crying of happiness. All huge contradictions. But I think mine's the most sensible of all. It's so confusing that it makes sense.

It's like... when a rich man is walking down the street, and an old poor man shyly approaches him, asking for money, for food, for a couple of love words, and the wealthy man spits on the old man, people say he has no heart. Oh, but he does. It's not whether he has it or not, but if it's still alive. And this rich man's heart, for example, is dead.

I'm not saying that you can't save your heart after it dies, because you can. That's another difference between both deaths. If your brain dies, there's nothing you or anyone can do to save it. But if your heart, if your feelings, die, you can bring them back. You can get to feel again, to see again, to... love again. It's like having a second chance in life. And a third one. And...

But he's dead, and I don't think he'll be able to have his second chance. I can't feel his heart anymore. I can't feel his love, not for me, not for anyone else. Not pure love, true love, real love...

My secret though has yet to be revealed. He's not alive because his brain is still working, because his heart is still beating, even though every single organ in his weak unworthy body is functioning. He's alive in my heart.

See, my heart is still alive, even tough it had been broken, shattered in the past. And my heart, as amazing as it sounds, after going through so much pain, has not turned cold. My heart still loves. My heart still loves him. Not him, the dead him, but him who had feelings, who had a soul, who had a heart.

Death did not tear did not do us part, for even though he died, I'm still with him, and he's alive to me. He loves me as much as I love him. He feels me just as I feel him. And he's safe. Safe from dying once again. Because even though my heart may get broken again, he'll be the one to heal it, his love will heal it.

He's dead. But in my heart, his life will forever live, his love will never, ever die...


The End.