What am I doing?
Perhaps it was talking about why I left in the first place. Not because I saw it as a bad relationship, but because I didn’t want to saddle anyone with the voices, the dreams, my instability. That was my real reason…so why do I feel like I should have this? What makes this any different?
I’m being selfish, thinking that this relationship will last. It is wrong of me to wish to have someone like him…knowing that my hold on the voices could slip any moment…knowing that I’m a target for the Ascians now that they can sense me.
The dreams haven’t stopped. It’s how I know it’s not over. But when I’m with him for a little while, I forget…
Perhaps it is the same as what he went through. Perhaps there were nights he woke up dreaming about the pale touch of death on his skin, lives flashing before his eyes in a desperate attempt to claw at the surface of light.
I was not wrong when I told him that I wasn’t the light. I am the waves, clutching the shore, searching for purchase. And the rock, though it may enjoy the feel of the water, is ever worn down by the kiss of the ocean. Through salt, through endless embrace. The rock cannot stand in a sea.
Twelve, but I want to envelop him whole, let the waters surge up. But that would be a death sentence. And though he wanted that once, it is not for me to give him. I would not have him drown because of me.
Menphina, guide my steps. Tell me what I should do. Am I being stupid? Is it me talking, or the voices once more?Â
Twelve…help me.
Perhaps it was talking about why I left in the first place. Not because I saw it as a bad relationship, but because I didn’t want to saddle anyone with the voices, the dreams, my instability. That was my real reason…so why do I feel like I should have this? What makes this any different?
I’m being selfish, thinking that this relationship will last. It is wrong of me to wish to have someone like him…knowing that my hold on the voices could slip any moment…knowing that I’m a target for the Ascians now that they can sense me.
The dreams haven’t stopped. It’s how I know it’s not over. But when I’m with him for a little while, I forget…
Perhaps it is the same as what he went through. Perhaps there were nights he woke up dreaming about the pale touch of death on his skin, lives flashing before his eyes in a desperate attempt to claw at the surface of light.
I was not wrong when I told him that I wasn’t the light. I am the waves, clutching the shore, searching for purchase. And the rock, though it may enjoy the feel of the water, is ever worn down by the kiss of the ocean. Through salt, through endless embrace. The rock cannot stand in a sea.
Twelve, but I want to envelop him whole, let the waters surge up. But that would be a death sentence. And though he wanted that once, it is not for me to give him. I would not have him drown because of me.
Menphina, guide my steps. Tell me what I should do. Am I being stupid? Is it me talking, or the voices once more?Â
Twelve…help me.