*RP*
Sitting here on the banks at Kittyswitch, watching the water lapping at the shore, I let my mind wander. Play over the faces and hearts I’ve learned to love and lose over the past year. What all have I done, what have I learned? I’m getting handfasted in three days, and two faces keep looking back at me from the water, reminding me of things past, making me fear hurting the present.
Do I hold back, hiding, recovering, forever? Seeing my heart’s dead alive and walking, fearing what I may show to them… Is it worth it? I could just turn my back on everything, let my heart grow cold, but then that would be akin to death for myself. And yet here I am, drowning in the silent drama of my own heart.
The first I’ve held back out of necessity, for following rules, and then because I realized the depth with which I cared. Seeing his other scars has made me pull back, knowing I could be burnt just as easily… knowing I couldn’t just be something disposable, someting light and airy like candy but then tossed away at the merest inconvenience. So for that reason I’ve bound myself, danced on the surface, and only barely sipped from the cup.
The second… well, there is no saving grace, nothing I can do. The impasse is there, two cliffs and a great divide, and there is no bridging the crevasse. That isn’t nearly as painful or filled with doubt, as it’s easier to keep walking and not be tempted to build a bridge when you know they’re not going to help to build it halfway.
Still, I know the path I’m on is stable and peaceful, and I’m looking forward to the handfasting. I have a dress.. and I’ve been assured that I don’t need to wear shoes. *bounces*
