New Beginnings and Old Behaviors

There are moments in my life that I wish I hadn't gone through in order to get to where I am. There are things that I’ve done, that I’m not proud of. Then again… Some of those things are things that most people wouldn't think twice about.

I’m not sorry for the people I’ve killed.

I know that’s a bit of a powerful statement, but when you’re an emissary of the gods, its part of the job.

Izri took a moment and smiled, looking down at her journal. It wasn't much but it was a start. She had begun writing at the direction of a few of the priestess’ at the temple. She’d woken here and been brought to the oracle at the temple. The woman that had been appointed to the temple was the only one to know how her exaltation, as it were, had occurred.

~*~

“You require a new name, child.”  The older woman spoke in a tone that didn't leave much room for negotiation. Tired, perhaps a bit wise, but still as compassionate as an individual could muster. Izri nodded and looked around her. Everything was white and gold with silver accents.

“Where am I, if you don’t mind…”

“Not at all, child. You are in the Temple of Iomedae. She has saved you, it appears.” The oracle stood, walking to Izri. She took her hands and traced the symbols on her hands. Izri pulled her hands back and shook her head.

“I don’t remember much about it honestly. I was facing death. Again. And then I was speaking in some… strange language… and now… I’m here.”

“Celestial by the accounts from the Andorian priests.”

“Oh gods… They’re going to be after me…”

“No. The kings guards will be.” A slight smirk emerged on the oracle’s face as she watched Izri.

“I’m glad you've maintained my sense of normal by allowing for accurate sarcasm in the conversation.” Izri rolled her eyes at the statement. She paused looking back at the oracle. “I didn't kill her.”

“I know.”

Izri paused in the walk about the room in front of a statue of Iomedae. The goddess looked cruel. It wasn't her features, perhaps just the stone she had been carved from. Izri smirked at that thought and began to think of the miracle it was that she had been saved, even if it had doomed her in the Kingdom of her birth. Andor would never welcome her home. She starred quietly at the statue, wondering about the ‘why’ of it all.

“Your thoughts cloud your vision, child. You've yet to come to a name.” As the oracle spoke, Izri thought she saw the lips of the statue move into a slight knowing smile. Izri smirked and shook her head.

“No… I have one. I don’t think I have a choice in the matter either…” She turned towards the other oracle and held her hands open, palms facing out. “My name is Mirari.”

“Miracle? Very appropriate child…” The oracle smiled and looked past Mirari to the statue.

~*~

 I have yet to set out on any journeys in the name of my Goddess, however… soon. The priestesses and priests are almost convinced that my ‘ maniacal’ past is behind me. Weird how when you represent a goddess of justice and all things white and right in the world, they frown on stumbling back into the temple right before devotionals drunk and in the arms of … someone not temple approved.

Mirari smirked and put the quill down. She bound the book quietly and tucked the quill into her up-do  She was growing tired of the temple life. Her bones itched to get out and back into the world. Or maybe that was just the clothes.

She stepped outside, the white and gold skirt flowing in the breeze. In the long side slit of the skirt, a knife sat on the oracles thigh, steel glinting in the sun. One of her religious instructors stood, waiting.

“You’re late.”

“No. I’m simply working on a different schedule than you are.”

“Given that it’s my schedule that I follow and set yours by, I’d continue with the prior statement.”

“Rigidity and I don’t get along, unless…” Mirari smirked and glanced downward to the priests groin.

“Don’t be lewd.” The priest flushed and shook his head, opening the scroll.

“Aww but it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”  Mirari stuck her tongue out and looked around at the gardens. It was beautiful here. Mundane and beautiful. She imagined a lot of people having religious experiences here.

“Why do you enjoy making people uncomfortable?” The sword knight was frustrated with her antics.

“Because how will you know your limits if no one pushes them? You've chosen religion as your life. It’s a safe, comfortable existence. Nothing has ever been learned from safety. In order to grow, you must be uncomfortable and even hurt once in a while. Religion is supposed to be a journey. And so is life. Take it too seriously and it’ll kill you before you have any fun.” Mirari lounged on the bench, watching the priests face grow sterner. “Besides, I can’t tell if you’re more pissed off with yourself or me at this point. It’s pretty funny.” 

“You’re contemptible. An awful example of all that Iomedae holds dear. Why she chose you is beyond me. I’ve killed people for lesser offenses.”

“And I thought you didn't like me!” Mirari smirked and the sword knight rolled his eyes, beginning to read from the devotional. Her head bowed. The readings did give her a sense of peace and they reminded her that her efforts against the governments she wandered through were not in vain. There was a higher purpose to be served. Besides… a corrupt government, or god should be fearful of it’s followers and people. 

Dwarven Greetings

Sylvie growled, half thinking half wishing that screaming, punching a cardboard box full of packing peanuts and walking away would make her feel better. The truth being that it might but there were way too many cameras watching her. She leaned against the cold gray steel of the backroom shelves and stared out the open bay door. The snow fell softly as the calm, frozen whispers of winter graced the threshold. A shiver ran up her thin frame, prompting her to pull her sweatshirt tighter around herself.  She frowned and thought about all the different ways she could get someone fired as she approached the open door.

“Fucking people don’t even know how to close doors.” She shivered again and reached for the rope to pull down the gate. “This isn't a barn!” She tugged but the rope wouldn't give. “What the…”

“Listen, I told you we took a wrong turn at the last portal.” A light skinned woman walked forward from the open door and pointed on a map to her companion. The man frowned, though it was hard to tell through the mound of facial hair present. He took the map from her, gruffly and looked back out the bay door. Sylvie stood there, jaw hanging open, not entirely sure what to make of what was going on in front of her.

“Are you a dwarf?” She heard the words leave her mouth and then quickly regretted them. The man whirled his frame around. All… five feet of him. His long black hair fell down over his shoulders to his waist, with a beard to match. His bright green eyes glared at her and a slight snarl emerged from his lips as her breathed a reply.

“What else would I be, you daft lass?” His voice was deep and guttural, and more menacing than Slyvie had heard from anyone. The woman stepped between them and looked Sylvie over before smiling softly.

“You’ll have to excuse our companion...”

“She doesn't have to do anything but stand there like a hooked fish with her mouth hanging open, apparently!” The dwarf snapped and looked at the map. “No we’re here. This lass is the one. Let’s just get her and be off. Sylvia Cressfall, you’re now with us.” The dwarf’s snarl didn’t let up, and Sylvie’s eyes widened as he put away the map. He gestured to the woman standing between them and she winced.

“Miss Cressfall. Your hand.” The elven looking woman extended her hand. Sylvie, awestruck; put out hers and was met with the slenderest fingers she’d ever seen. As her eyes closed and consciousness flitted from her body, she focused on the dwarf, hoping for an answer. “Now lift her gently, Baldrik…”

“Gently? If she doesn't get a concussion, will that…”

“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on…” Slyvie’s voice faded as her world went black.

To a New Year

The New Year is time for many to start again. For once, this actually includes myself.

In years past, my New Years celebrations have been with some great people, mostly close friends and my younger sister. This year was quite a different experience for me. Not in that there weren’t great people there, because there were! Instead of a bunch of adults kvetching and sending out a giggle into the night to break up the conversation, I spent the night with a little girl (I really should say young lady, I’m sure she’d prefer it) who was keen on making herself known as a young intellectual force in a game of Cranium. She’s bright and has a wonderful future ahead of her. I also spent the night with a new love. He and I rang in the New Year with the celebratory midnight kiss. It was a quiet moment that many people talk about. The world seemed to be shut out for a moment. I felt his lips, his arms around me, and the warmth of the moment. It was, one of the most perfect kisses I have had the pleasure of experiencing.  

Mmmmm..... sugar-y

In the season of new beginnings, the romance is not the only thing that will be changing my life. I’m revamping my writing. This year is the year of finishing for my writing. I’ve started three different novels over the course of the last three years, and I am keen on pushing at least one to completion. I need to get it out there, even if it’s just to get rejection letters. I want to be published before I’m 30 and while I know I am still a few years behind that… time isn’t going to slow down and make it easier on me. Time to get to work.

I’m also working on a fun little side project that I’m fairly intent on showing the world as I go. Once I get the first 15 entries done, I’ll be posting a link. For now, the only clue I’ll give you is Letter #1. See the entry and see if you know. If you’re in Inkwell, you know, so no cheating!

Well.

Now that that’s out there… What are your goals for the year? How did you spend your New Years? Did you find a moment of perfection? Please feel free to write a bit and leave it in the comments section.

Cheers,

Jessi

Letter #1

Dear You,

Sometimes, I wonder where we’re going to be in 10 years. I’ve seen how months can change a relationship. It takes so little to shatter a preciously built world. I hope that this will not be another case of that for either of us. I don’t think that is the case, but… you can’t say never to anything, I’ve found.

It’s kind of funny that I sit and think about the 10 year future, given that for all the wondering… I can’t see anything more than use snuggled up talking quietly at the end of a long day. We’re still there, giggling at the other’s awful jokes and telling the other that it’s really not funny, trying to hide the smile still.  Hands intertwined, watching the Christmas trees’ lights change colors slowly, the room lighting up in a myriad of hues.

The scene is one I hope for. I hope that in so much time, I will still love you the same ways, but in so many new ones too.

With all my love,

Me

Pepper Spray and Protests

There comes a time that when the government becomes too big for its proverbial britches. When this happens, it is the citizens duty to rise up and remind the government who they work for. Peaceful protests and outrage, channeled appropriately are some of the tools in the arsenal against tyranny potentially overtaking our system of government.

I have been a part of protests in Boston and Washington D.C. I have made use of my constitutional rights in fighting against laws that would impede on my rights and the rights of others on issues that affect many on a grand scale. I have sat in protest, joining arms with others, been told to move, had red water thrown at me and marched until I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. I’ve spoken with priests on both sides of issues I marched for, and gotten perspective that I couldn’t without these acts of social outrage.

For those of you that know me personally, you know about the following. I am from a conservative family, led by a powerful woman whom has now passed from our lives. My grandfather, uncle, and now my cousin have proudly served in the United States military. Not one of the members of my family is quiet. We all have strong opinions and no one can change that. I am the newest generation of this proud family, to take to the issues, and do what I can to make life better for myself and those around me. 

That being said, I write this in complete outrage of situations occurring in California. At the University of California at Davis, a campus police office sprayed a line of students with pepper spray, while they sat, arms linked in protest. What they are protesting, and why they were there is irrelevant to me. They align with the recent Occupy movements that have been taking place, so tuition and the general disarray of our economy.

There is something distinctly disturbing about the chemical attack on the students. These officers are there to protect and serve. Protect and serve the citizens that employ them. They, like the government, step out of line from time to time, and must be put back into line. I respect the officers and those that exemplify the best that the system has to offer. I however cannot imagine, being in front of a line of protesters that sat peacefully and spraying them down.

I can not adequately express the poor taste left in my mouth by this situation. I can however say that this will not be the last time we hear about this situation, or situations like it. Riots are breaking out all over the world. The world has declared war on it’s governments, sometimes with very little catalyst. Today, I ask you to take a hard look at what’s important to you. Our fathers, grandfathers, and complete strangers fought to give us these freedoms and protect them. What are you doing to preserve your rights? 

NaNo Dare 1 : Character in a Tavern

I dare you to start your creative juices flowing now. Take one character from your upcoming NaNo and put them in a bar full of Centaurs and other mythical creatures. 500 words minimum...

Somewhere in the fragile lines between sanity and insanity dwell, lies the bounds of reality. Erik knew this area well, as most mad scientists do. He sat quietly watching a train pass by on a long dead track. It ground to a stop, brakes clearly un-oiled as the squeals filled the evening air. Erik winced and stuck his pinky in his ear, wiggling it in an attempt to clear the noise from his mind. The doors opened and he stepped on board, trench coat encompassing the doorway. He tipped his fedora to the conductor, a smaller than average man, with long pointed ears. The tiny man smiled and gestured to the row of open seats. The train took off and a few minutes later, it was full of creatures of every description… all inbound to one destination.

The tavern was quaint. It was a medium sized brick building. It was an unassuming looking building during the day but at night, well… to be fair the sight of a minotaur crashing through the front windows sort of denoted the place as a bit… odd. Erik walked forward, smirking as an elf and a clearly inebriated dwarf left the bar pointing and laughing at the minotaur who was being helped to his feet. The creature seemed stuck between a howl and a chuckle and couldn’t decide. Erik passed through the front door to the bar, where a pretty, pale girl with black hair stood. Her face was perfect, symmetrically. He’d noted this several times, mostly while drunk. Her name was … Sylvia? He couldn’t remember. He did remember however, exactly where he sat every night he came. He moseyed over to the bar stool and took off his coat extending it to nothing, letting it be whisked away to the coat room. Ned was the ghost in charge of coats. He was the only one who could handle corporeal matters.

“What will you have tonight, Erik?”

‘Slyvia… Sally… she must have a name…’ Erik smiled through the confusion and shrugged. “Something to warm me. The chill in the air is quite heavy tonight.” The woman smiled and nodded.

“I think that’s just Ned screwing with you, but…” She poured an amber liquid into a glass and set it in front of him. “Here you go.”

“Scotch…” Erik’s smile grew and he picked up the glass, saluting her quietly. The woman smirked and leaned forward, whispering something into his ear. “Well of course I knew your name was Samantha… What do you take me for, my darling? How could I forget such an impossibly lovely woman’s name?”

“I take you for human, Erik. To ere is human after all.” She smirked, her eyes flashing red for a moment. She held his gaze for a moment before walking away to another patron, nodding and getting him a drink. Erik frowned and looked into his glass.

“ ‘I take you for human…’ “ He mocked softly and took a swig. The cool liquor brought the expected warmth to his esophagus, and began to migrate outward. He turned his attention away from the bar and … Samantha, looking around the room to what most would consider a freak show. To him… This was home.

The Moment When...

There comes a moment when you stop, stare into someone eyes, and you can see yourself reflected perfectly back at you. Not the you that you imagine, but the you that the other person sees.

All of their fears, all of their joy, what they see within you, that comforting and perfect moment when you finally realize, it's not infatuation. It's purely, simply; love.

Whether it's love from someone you've taken into your life, through an odd series of events; or someone you've known forever, the feeling (familial or romantic) is profound. It's a moment that no one can ever take away from you.

It's scary sometimes, to know who loves you. But.. in those moments of uncertainty and fear, knowing, simply knowing that someone is out there who cares for you more deeply than any describable logical sense... you find strength. Within that moment. Within yourself.

No one is ever better off without you. YOU have made an impact. YOU are special and amazing.

Please. For no other reason than finally admitting the truth to yourself or someone else, tell someone you love them. Today, everyday, any day. Have the courage to be that moment for someone. Look into their eyes, and show them how much you care for them.

I recently had this moment with my partner. He and I starred into each others eyes and for a moment, I saw what it was that he saw. Within those deep mahogany brown pools, I saw love reflected back at me. Nothing complicated. Love, admiration and something I couldn't quite describe. Until we broke the stare and kissed. I knew what it was. It was something I've never seen married so cleanly together with love. I'll never forget that moment. It was a moment that I will carry with me and cherish for as long as I live.

Thank you, my love.

I sincerely hope you all have either gotten to experience this moment. If not, you will. I truly want to thank you all for allowing me to share my work and myself with all of you. This is in no means a good bye. Simply a moment of appreciation mixed in with a recent revelation in my own life.

Namaste,

Jessi

Speak Out with Your Geek Out: Costumes Continued

So even though Halloween is still a month and a half off, I've begun onstruction of my costume for this year. Given my last post about how much I love costumes, I'm going to share with you some of the pictures I've taken of my construction so far. It's a hat! I do so love the hat. The materials used with 1/4 yard of single ply netting in both black and purple (not tulle, that's something much finer), a purple 3 inch flower, one glittery purple and black bird, some 1 in purple satin ribbon, and a cheap top hat from iParty. Below are the results!

What are you doing for Halloween? Send me your pictures! I'll proudly post them in a special Halloween Week series of posts.

<3 Jessi

Astor's Grace - Old WiP

               There was something about the look in her eyes. It was the sort of look that inspired confidence in her followers, her army. She was the sort of woman that men fought wars for. While she was painfully aware of her effect on men and women like, it wasn’t for her ravishing looks, as she didn’t possess those. She was fairly plain in her appearance. Long brown, straight hair; brown, never ending eyes; and a slightly crooked smile. She stood with a complex mix of feigned grace and awkward self consciousness, as she addressed her men. Somehow, when she spoke, she transformed. Her beauty shone through, like the way that the sun reaches the smallest of plants in the early hours of the morning. Her intellect was rapier sharp and just as quick, throwing in a crass joke or two to elicit a laugh from the lower ranks, and connect her to ‘the common man’; while eloquently tying in beautifully predetermined metaphors and imagery to inspire the utmost confidence from her ranks. Her name was Elena, and she was our queen. The one we would march for, the one we would die for, and the woman that I called my wife.

                She stepped back from the podium, sounds of applause still ringing in our ears. Elena walked off the stage with the power and grace of a well spoken official, but behind the thick red curtains of the stage, she let the sort of façade melt away. She reached out and hugged me tight, looking deep into my eyes for approval.

                “How did I do?” I had to chuckle as it was evident that the speech was a rousing success, yet she still asked. Honestly, I was the last person she needed approval from. She had a legion of young men willing to die for her. Me? I was an advisor to the tactics committee, and very rarely saw any action on the front lines.  I smiled and stroked her cheek.

                “You did good, kiddo.” I said, half sincere, half jokingly. She stuck her tongue out at me and laughed.

                “One of these days, you’ll stop calling me that.” She said, pushing herself against me. I smiled, a small private smile and pulled her closer. A cough sounded from behind me, and Elena looked past me rolling her eyes.

                “I’ve got to be the only ruler in all of fucking Astor that has to stop public displays of affection with my husband.” She grumbled and pushed away from me. I turned. It was Cynthia, her etiquette coach and the face of public relations for the kingdom. She was a sterner looking woman, with thinly rimmed glasses, and her hair pulled out of her face. Cynthia looked down at the stack of papers and walked forward, being joined by one of the military advisors on the way. I saluted the gentleman, recognizing him to be one of the generals of Elena’s airship fleet. General Dante Valk, leader of the 1^st airborne squadron, the finest pilots in all of Astor. Elena smiled and reached out her hand to the general who bowed and kissed her hand.

                “All allegiance to her majesty, may her grace protect.” Elena despised the greeting but it had a certain degree of formality to it that her station demanded. The general righted himself and Cynthia smiled.

                “Your Grace…”

                “Elena.” Elena said curtly looking at Cynthia a little harshly. The formalities seemed to be an unnecessary addition to her position and most unwelcome. I hid a small smile as I stood there beside her.

                “Your Grace, the legion facing Eltheener’s western border have begun the march towards their capital. Your general has informed me that an aerial assault, weakening their biodome would be the next step. It would weaken their citizens and allow for easier passage for our troops.” The general stood silently and I shook my head.

                “As much as an assault on the city’s dome directly, would aid greatly, it would also weaken our chances at any sort of eventual diplomatic negotiations.” A voice came from the shadows and a gentleman with long black hair came forward. His name was Liam and he was one of Elena’s diplomatic council members. Elena smiled seeing him joining the small circle. The pair had been close, since the two grew up together in the palace, the children of noble blood. The General frowned and waved his hand dismissively at Liam.

                “Diplomacy with the Eltheenians? Highly doubtful. Their leader is more hot headed than our own and half as wise. Do you really think he’ll have anything to do with us after we’ve barged through his countryside, and razed two of his cities to the ground?” The laughter in the General Valk’s voice was clear though he still tried, in vain, to hide it. Elena frowned and Cynthia’s face paled. Clearly she hadn’t intended for him to do any of the talking, though Liam was an unaccounted for variable in her original plan. Liam smirked and shook his head.

                “You seem to think that diplomacy has only one face, General Valk. For your uneducated, war like hind brain, I’ll speak in small words.” A small, but powerfully poignant smile passed over his features infecting Liam’s eyes. “Interrogation can come across as diplomacy as long as you don’t break too many bones. Keep insulting Elena, our queen, and I may show you that darker side, personally.” The way Liam looked at Valk made him and myself, uncomfortable. The sheer brilliance of Liam’s blue eyes and venomous personality seemed to culminate in his stare. He had always been protective of Elena, taking on his current position to remain close to her. I once theorized that the two were lovers, while I was away, though the thought seemed to fade as quickly as it sprung up. In all of Astor, he was the only man that made me feel uneasy; uneasy about my position in his eyes and uneasy about leaving my wife alone with him.  Elena held back a small chuckle, and covered her mouth, coughing slightly.

                “Ok. Enough. We should head back to the palace before anymore discussion takes place. Besides, I’m sure your families would like to see you tonight. I’ve had you all away for weeks, trying the bring morale higher.” Elena smiled and the group silently agreed, walking off to the airship. I waited for a moment before following knowing there would be reporters with their vid droids crawling all over the exit area. For all that it was public knowledge that I was her husband, it was considered to be a sign of weakness to have me so close to her at all times. While none of her trusted companions believed this to be such a thing, the general public seemed to have adopted that unsavory opinion. It hurt me to a degree to have to be apart from her on a personal level, but on an official level it made sense. She needed a strong positive image during the war.

A Knight's Decision

"She's gone for the night, you'll have to return later, Knight." An eyeless Watcher stood outside of Illia's chamber. I shook my head and turned, taking my leave. I had no words for that idiot, and anything I could say would be recorded for an eternity. I knew his kind. A footstep behind me. I turned my head slightly, stopping in my walk. "She is not yours, do so remember that, good knight." I could hear those putrid lips part into a grin over his teeth, without so much as looking. I shook my head and continued walking. He was only right in that she couldn't ever be declared mine.

The walk back to the guardhouse was always longest after not seeing her. I would inspect the guards, check weaponry for the evening, and call role, making sure everyone was accounted for. Those that weren't, were rounded up or let go. There was a zero tolerance policy for those trusted with guarding the Family, and the grounds. I turned the corner to a rowdy scene. I tilted my head to the side, seeing a few women scattered about the barracks, and upon quick glance, none of them were authorized to be there. Beer, everywhere. Clothing, sparse.

"Dammit." I grabbed the horn on the wall and blew. It's blare got their attention that was for sure. The women were up and out the door in under a minute, and the men, standing at attention, merely seconds after that. Some clothed, others, only partially. "Well, men, I'm glad you enjoyed your evening." I snarled. I couldn't stand the resentment in my voice. The men stood silent. I starred into each of their eyes for the moment and turned away, moving on.

"Your watches are assigned on the door. I trust there will be less women and booze at each of them. Harris and Milton, you're staying here for the night. Drunkards. Fall out." The two soldier remained, their attentive stares, now falling away in the realization that they'd been found out despite their efforts to appear sober. I frowned as the other men went off, grabbing trousers or shirts as they went. I frowned, directing the men to two seat against the wall. I paced in front of them for what seemed like an eternity.

"The outhouses need scrubbing and the horse stalls need to be cleaned out. I suggest you make yourselves useful. I gestured to the door and it flew open. I blinked, seeing two members of the Court standing in my barracks. Their white and gold robes, hidden poorly under the brown cloaks.

"Gentlemen." I turned my attention to the soldiers, practically throwing them out in favor of these two. The saluted and stumbled out, my hand going to my temples. "What an I do for you, gentlemen?"

"That should be discussed elsewhere and with the ones who sent us for you." The voice was soft but resonated with power, not quite of this world. He extended his hand back out the door to the carriage.

The carriage was black and could only lead me to believe it was going to arrive at the Mancers high court building. I looked at the two that now stood behind me.

"I see I don't get much of a choice in this actual decision. " My tone went from helpful to mocking by the end of the sentence. The two sort of chuckled though I'm not entirely sure what that noise was. I stepped forward to the carriage and sat in the vehicle. The lining was rich. Red velvet, gold trim, and the of course, black curtains. They were drawn for me, and a candle lit within the interior. I sat silently, waiting. If it was the Mancers looking for help from the order, it wasn't going to happen. Since their betrayal so long ago, aiding the Dreamscape split from the Nightmare Realm, the Order wouldn't trust them. Further more, I wouldn't trust them. I have my own issues with the Council.

The ride didn't take long, unfortunately. I would have hoped that I would be able to collect my thoughts a bit while on my way to a certain end. Those that didn't help the Mancers were either eliminated or were driven into madness. I sighed as the door opened and the brown cloaks had been removed. I instead was greeted by the open arms of a woman, whom I didn't recognize. Her dragon, however, did recognize me. It snapped and snarled, threatening a firey end at the word of it's mistress.

"Ah Knight Leoguart. I've been waiting for your handsome face." Her smile swirled upward and the sudden appearance of it, the dragon backed down but only slightly. I approached and bowed, taking her freely offered hand, kissing it gently. She giggled. A woman of her... advanced years shouldn't be giggling. I glanced upwards before standing back to my full height. She was an older woman. Blue-gray eyes that spoke to her wisdom, and bright white hair. Her face showed the marks laughter and tears had left streaked across her face. She was ... tiny. She stood maybe five foot five and weighed less than she should. Her eyes softened when I didn't say anything and she nodded, waving a finger in the air.

"So you want to know who I am. Well, over tea. Come now. It is breakfast time." Her invitation was a bit odd to say the least. It was in fact time for breakfast, though I wasn't sure where the hell the time had gone. A soft melody seemed to float through the air, and I found myself casting a protection spell over my being. She laughed hearing the soft incantation. "Oh darling, that will 'hardly' be necessary, but have it your way." She glanced back over her shoulder, her long white braid swaying back and forth as she walked. The dragon that had been at her side, now head butted the back of my knees.

"I'm going, already. No need to be rude, little one." The dragon hissed and headbutted me again, forcing me to lurch forward. I caught myself easily and moved forward, entering into the not so humble home. The interior felt relaxing and lived in but still immaculately clean. She walked across the hard wood floor, gesturing to a seat by the fireplace, a high backed leather chair sat waiting apparently for my arrival. I stood next to it, waiting for her to return. The house was lovely. Earth tones, greys, and brick adorned the abode. The fireplace was roaring , casting a flickering light to fill the room with it's warmth. Before I had the thought to say anything, she had returned with a tray. Two mugs for tea, a teapot, and some sort of pastry. It was the most hospitality I had seen in a very very long time. She placed the tray down delicately, though She plopped into the seat with a force I generally see from men twice her size. I smirked and sat down in the appointed chair gazing into the fire.

Sins of the Court

"Order!" The Duke shouted as the Princess stood outside of the doors of her courtroom. I stood next to her for the time being, but would separate and go take my seat among the Knights and the Monsters of the Order. I nodded to her as the door opened, sword clattering at my side as I made my way to my seat. The Court was having nothing to do with any of the pomp or circumstance surrounding the arrival of the royal family member today. It seemed the Mancers had other issues on their minds. They remained civil within the Court but only because their powers were rendered useless within it's confines. The Knights and Monster alike were rendered useless, any actions taken led to harsh punishment for anyone involved, not only at the hands of the Mistress but also within the Court.

'Odd. She's here. Perhaps our Princess isn't as naive as I had assumed...' I mused while taking a seat, only to rise again, as the Court finally came to order for the day. The Mancers were silenced and the Order backed down, letting the nobility take charge. I frowned. My amusement had disappeared with the fighting. I turned my attention to my charge who unlike the rest of the crowd, seemed to be at ease, taking a slight direction from the adviser to her left, a woman that looked to be part cat. The woman was in fact, part cat, deriving her appearance on something that made the little princess at ease when she was a child. She nodded silently as the Princess, now fully grown, raised her hand and grabbed the long stemmed scepter , slamming the butt into the ground, sending a shock wave of light green energy through the room.

"The Court is now in session. The Princess will address the Court." The Duke stood back and bowed to the woman, positioning guards at the exits without so much as a word. The simple gesture sent the court into an uproar once again, the Mancers threatening to leave. One stood and pointed to the Princess, black feathers erupting from his back in a cloud of pointless bravado.

"You are not our Queen. We shall not listen to the likes of a child, with minimal pull. Go back to your nursery and re-emerge when you have found a cure for your father." The Mancer cried. Ah perhaps this wouldn't be as boring as I'd thought. I turned to the Princess who stood, slowly, watching the movements of the upstart Mancer. Before she could speak, a Knight flew to her side. Knight Leongaurt from the Order of the Rose. The Order had been sworn to protect the women of the Family since the first human came to rule the Nightmare Realm. He was young and the only thing that matched his bravado was his lust for the Princess. He was strong and certainly would attain the rank of Captain with relative ease, but his relationship with the Princess was always called before the Order. This wouldn't help his case. I ran a hand over my bald head and smirked.

"You have no right to speak to your future Queen that way, Mancer. Stand down, and no harm will come to you, or do you so enjoy your time with the mistress, you'd be willing to spend some time with her..." His threats weren't idle, as the Knights could commit anyone to the care of the Mistress. The woman stood walking forward towards the throne, bowing her large black brimmed hat to the Princess. She shuddered and nodded, the woman turning to face the Mancers. In an instant the imposing black figure was in the stands behind the Mancer. Her finger slipped gently around his throat, caressing as though she would take him as a lover. The Mancers gasped as their member turned ghost white, as if the life was being sucked from him.

"Enough. I will not rule through terror... yet." Princess Illia whispered to the cat hybrid. The woman nodded and gave a harsh look to Leonguart. He nodded.

"Don't toy with your prey so much Mistress... Why don't you come join us back on the floor..." Leonguart smirked and the woman pulled away, the Mancer collapsed into the arms of his peers. The Mistress blew him a kiss and disappeared before reappearing near the Princess. She bowed and stepped back into the shadows behind the throne. The Mistress was the real power behind the court, or rather the Family's power. She was an ageless beauty with a fearsome power. She could draw on people's worst fears, exploit them, and then torture you. All she needed was to touch your skin, and she knew. Her eyes glowed a quiet blue, as I made contact with them. She smirked and winked at me. She and I were... complicated.

The Princess stood and looked over the room taking in the sounds of madness that poured from everyone's mouths. The collective chatter was something that she never could make sense of, nor did she care to at this particular point. The scepter raise above her head and slammed into the ground again, causing the crowd to silence. She frowned and shook her head, looking at the Mancers first.

"My father is dying." The room went deathly quiet.

"Stupid move, little girl" I growled and felt one of the knights squeeze my shoulder. I ignored him and stood, walking to the platform. I was blocked twice, but by new people that knew not who -I- was. I simply pushed passed and stood behind the throne with the Mistress, frowning my disapproval. Her gaze however, was unchanging. She looked down for a moment, before her gaze returned to the crowd.

"Despite the multiple leads that are flowing through the kingdom, my story will be the only to remain unchanged. My father is trapped within Reality, unable to traverse the gap between worlds any longer. His soul is too feeble to be able to live a dual life. His flame is diminished. I am left in his place, and while I cannot promise the years of peace or transgression free environment that my father allowed for, I can state that I will do my best to follow his will and allow for the continuance of his leadership. I am not him, and with that being said, I will ask for the permission of the Court and the High Council to continue my work here." She took a breath, her eyes sparking, light gold flecks catching the waves of lights that flooded into the room from the early morning sun. For the first time since she ascended the throne, she was starting to sound like a leader. The poor little naïve girl was beginning to get her footholds. To me, this was the most dangerous time of all. This was the time that many would try to win her over, the newly rooted power often corrupted faster than any single being could allow for. She continued. "My plans for this world are great and far-reaching, with implications that will be discussed. Over time, I hope that you all will understand what I am doing. For now however, consider this." Her voice grew cold and menacing as she said the next statement. "I will kill any that stand in my way." Ah there she goes... Her voice, to those who weren't paying attention was certainly sincere. To those of use that knew her however, she was frightened. She was yet, unable to hide much from anyone within her inner circle. Kill them she would, and if she was anything like her father, in her rage, she would kill entire bloodlines. She was like her father in many aspects, her rage, however had yet to be shown. I chuckled to myself as a gloved hand touched mine. I shook my head and kept my gaze forward. The hand retracted and i heard a slight sigh. She would wait. I had to attend to the eventual fallout from this little outburst on our Princess's part. And the fallout didn't take long. The roar through the crowd was a mix of laughter and disbelief. Those that laughed would be the first against the wall, when her rage was tested. Her head lolled from side to side, lazily, letting a smile pass aross her lips. I stepped beside the throne and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her head snapped back behind her, relaxing after seeing it was only me. She nodded and looked back out towards the Court.

"The laughter is cute." She whispered to me and turned to the Guards of the Order. Leonguart frowned, though it was clear his anger was directed at someone other than the Princess. I smirked, stepping back from the throne. Mistress opened the door behind the curtain and I nodded before passing through. She would no longer need my assistance, there was no need to be there. I pulled a pocket watch from my jacket and clicked the lid open. I had an over the shoulder view of the court. Should she require assistance, Mistress remained close. She was most likely the only one I could trust anymore. The Court was uickly growing into a countless number of powerless factions. Powerless because they alone, had no ability to enact what they wanted, and no one would ever get tem to budge on their 'platforms'. I walked quietly down the hallway, flipping a coin as I went. The habit had been picked up from a gambler I haunted when I was a Monster. Ah, his dreams had always been so delightful. I smirked as I went, only stopping when I spied a cracked door. There were two voices on the other side. Well now, I wouldn't have been doing my job if I didn't stop and just listen in... for the Family of course.

"I don't trust him." This voice was male. Deep and utterly sad. Most likely one of the Priests. Those were perhaps the Monsters I feared the most. Theirs was the job to clean up after the deaths. It is said when a Dreamer dies in their sleep, their soul is stuck forever in the Murky Sea between the Nightmare Realm and the Dreamscape. I knew this to be true, but that is a story for another day, yes? These Monsters took over after the Dreamer had passed on, to judge the soul in question. If you're asking if they act as gods, you're clearly mistaken. However they do judge whether the soul will be able to serve in the world.

"A monster is never to be trusted. Even after entering the fold as a Watcher." This voice was female. This voice had my interest. It was soft, sweet almost, if there wasn't such a venomous seed behind it. I wondered who I had enraged this time, and what my crimes were. For surely they were reproachable...

To My Ladies...

This is to you, my lady friends...

To you, late night booty call receivers,
remember that they're not so friendly
when there's less alcohol in their system
they're princes of the silver tongued seduction
but they'll still not want to cuddle in the morning
worse, see you without your make up on

To you, the lonely, sister figure
you have a million friends
and Facebook stats to prove it
you will find someone that is worthy,
but perhaps not within your group
perhaps a change of venue...

To you, the master of last call pickups
lay off the man hunt for the night
the term coyote ugly comes up too often
in your vocabulary.
The search for a body to fill that empty bed space
never seems to end with all your dignity

To you, the girl that's just right,
sometimes it's OK to be wrong
sometimes that's even advisable
just take a night off,
drink with the above girl and watch her work
she's a pro at being the bad-ass

To you, the tough chic
put 'em up sister
toss 'em back and watch the boys crumble
your guns outmatch theirs
and you rock
so why is your bed so lonely?

To the quiet, the meek, the oft uninvited
your overlooked charm has sat on the shelf for long enough
this is your time
being a nerd/geek is hot
rock your glasses and get those people to kneel and moan your name
admit it, you like it

To me and you and all of them
you got this.
I'm hip so let's ride.
Time to show them what you've got.
Time to show them who you are
It's about time to show yourself some love

instead of any of them

A Goggles and Lace Writing Challenge: The First Snowfall

I walked quietly through the paths of the campus, looming grey clouds, gently reminding me to get inside before some sort delinquent weather started dropping from them. It was cold enough for snow but still. It was early November in New England, it could go either way. Heavy freezing rain, or a light snow to usher in colder and much harsher weather ahead. I took a deep breath and let the cold, moist air fill my lungs. It seemed a welcome relief in the dryness of late fall...

I pulled my coat tighter around me and looked over the cold grey of the campus that matched the clouds perfectly. For all the damp coolness and the warmth of the dorms that lay just 50 feet away, I wanted to stay outside. I took a seat on the park style bench outside the big rock in the freshman quad and pulled a pack of cloves from my pocket. It'd been a long semester already and finals had yet to come. Hell, it wasn't even thanksgiving yet. The funny part about all of it was, the campus hadn't seen it this quiet since the first day of freshman move in. There wasn't a soul outside in the impending storm.

I took a clove out and lit it frowning as the smoke rings blew away in the breeze. The cinnamon spice taste of the cigarette reminded me of the holidays in the best and worst of ways. It was ironic that these were the memories triggered by the snow. I let the smile slip from my lips as someone sat down next to me. I looked up and held my pack of cloves out to the new occupant on the bench. My room mate took one and lit it, looking out at the path leading towards the campus center.

“Ready for the holidays?” Her thin hands held the cigarette delicately, watching my movements, calculating what I would say before I said it. I smiled softly, but sadly. “I see.” She nodded and took a drag, trying to ignore the fact that I'll be staying on campus again this year. She always makes the offer to bring me to her house, but I always decline. I love her family, I do. They're amazing but...

“I don't know...” I hear myself saying and watching as the first snowflake lands on my black naval coat. I take a drag of my own cigarette and relax as the smoke passes over my lips.

“You should.”

“I should what?”

“Know. It's been three years. Come home and enjoy the days with some family.” She's more insistent this year than in the past. She should be by all rights. I'd turned her down for three years running at this point.

“We'll see.” The silence in the air was dampened by the softly falling snow. She looked up at the sky and let the snowflakes fall on her ebony eyelashes. A smile passed over her lips and she stood in front of me, offering me a bony white hand.

“Let's go. I need to pack.” I looked her over for a moment and stood, finishing my cigarette. I took her hand.

“Yeah..." I knew that mischievous smile on her lips. I was either in trouble or about to have my things packed for me. The snow, however menacing it was to drivers, is what made me remember that one happy thing. Every time it snows, I have to smile. The crisp air, the faint memory of cinnamon and that smile... Something I'll never forget.

A Slave's Tale

I often wonder how things could be different. Not in the 'Well what if I took the road less traveled' sort of way. I more mean that I wonder what would have happened if Earth hadn't been demolished in 2042. Ok not entirely demolished. Damn close though. My personal fate was sealed long before I was even a glint in my fathers eye. I was born a slave on a planet far from the old world. It's not so bad really. Except in the winter. Skimpy outfits and the harsh winds don't mix well. I'm one of the luckier ones. I don't belong to the royalty. I shudder at the thought honestly. They treat their slaves, like, well, animals. My family is more lenient than that. I've been permitted the chance to learn to read and write. I'm incredibly grateful. Writing is such a release. It also offers me the chance to entertain the wife and husband. They like my stories. They said no Alterian has half the imagination I do. It makes me smile. I'm usually given the freedom to go for a unsupervised walk if my performance or writings are particularly good. Now with the two suns high in the summer, it's a treat to go out on a muggy night.

“Sali?” A soft voice peeks around the corner of my doorway. It's their youngest daughter, Terchia. She's probably the most captive of all of the audiences I could ever ask for.

“Terchia, you should be asleep...” I smile and get up, walking over to pick her up. Her four arms extend up at me, though she's not smiling back. “What's wrong sweetheart?”

“There's noise upstairs.” She said and clung to me, shaking. My eyes fluttered in bewilderment. I heard nothing. I stroked her hair and shifted her onto my hip, assuring her nothing was wrong. Her hands went to cover her ears and I looked around trying to figure out exactly what was happening. Nothing was going on. The house was silent. A guard stood by the door, leading outside.

“Excuse me...” I said keeping my head low as I approached. No response. Not wholly unusual. I looked to Terchia and then finally up to the guard. His eyes were rolled back in his head, blood pouring out his ears. I gasped and covered the girls eyes, taking a step back.

“Please...” Terchia was crying. I nodded and held her head close to my chest, taking a couple steps backwards and running back towards my room. I closed the door behind me and placed the girl down on my bed. The noise didn't seem to bother her as much down here. I knelt down in front of the girl searching her eyes for something, anything that could tell me what was going on. All I could see was fear however. Fear of what? This noise; whatever it was. Her hands moved from her ears after a moment and she looked around the room, seeming to calm down. “It stopped...” She relaxed a bit and pushed herself forward into my lap, off of the bed. Whatever it was, I didn't trust leaving her alone for the night.

“Why don't we have a sleepover tonight?” It wasn't the first time she had stayed with me, but quite honestly, if the guards were any indication of life elsewhere in the palace, I wanted nothing of the outside world for poor little Terchia.

“Ohh! Can we? Will Mommy be upset?”

“Nope, I asked her earlier if it would be ok.” I lied but I knew it would make her feel better and actually let her sleep. I just hoped her parents would be alive so they could be angry in the morning.

“Wow... you're smart. You think ahead a lot.” She grinned and hopped back into my bed, diving under the covers. “Can you tell me a story?” I couldn't help but smile at the request. It was a sign she was relaxed and I couldn't ask for anything more in the moment.

“Of course. Do you want me to tell you about where I'm from?”

“Yeah! Tell me about Earth!”

“Ok... Once upon a time...”

[to be continued]

Written in the Stars

We sit quietly on the edge of the porch watching the stars twinkle in the distance. I look over and you're smiling, softly, to yourself, what's going through your head I don't know. It doesn't matter for once. I let my fingers slide to your hand and squeeze gently, just reminding you I'm there. The stars the sparkle down at us, showing us the future in their cryptic flashes of light. I just want to know what it's like to be out there.

I let out a long breath and smile, feeling the warmth in my heart growing, encompassing my chest. I feel an arm drape over my shoulders and pull me close. My head rolls to the side, looking at you, letting your deep blue eyes search through me. I don't know what they find, your gaze is still a mystery to me. I feel like it's one of those things that won't ever change, regardless of how long I know you. You lean forward closer and capture my lips in a soft kiss, causing a smile to; once again, erupt on my face. I return the kiss and pull back just far enough to rest my head on your shoulder. I want to tell you how amazing it is, that someone could make me smile again, like that. My smile betrays me, as I don't even notice it happening again. We haven't spoken in a few minutes, but so much has been said in that silence.

The clouds pass and I pull myself closer, snuggling into your shoulder, wrapping my arms around you. I don't want this moment to end. It's amazing to find someone you have so much in common with. The universe is funny that way. From a chance meeting, you can find someone that simply makes you smile every time you're with them. So far so good. I'm still smiling, and in my mind this moment will remain as perfect as I've seen it.

It's these little moments of serenity that get me through. I know we parted on a bad note, but... I just want you to know that I love you, Eijin. I'm joining up with an experimental program. Hopefully it will help bring you home. If not, then I'll die trying to get to you.

From your love,
Aurona

P.S. If you're reading this, then I have you back. If not... I'm still searching. Soon. Soon you'll read this. I promised myself that.

Preview of My Camp NaNo Project : Aurona and Eiji

“Good morning, sweetie.” A soft voice purred from the doorway. Aurona yawned and pulled the sheets over her head. "Come on. Time to go to work, doll." A pair of cool, soft hands slid under the blanket to her sides.

"What the shit are you doing?!" Aurona shot up, screaming frowning at the girl that sat on their bed. The girl had blue hair and blue eyes and looked as innocent as one could, while having plotted this the whole time. Aurona rubbed her eyes and frowned, letting her arms drop into her lap. The girls own brown hair hung by her shoulders, a piece of it sticking up into the air, courtesy of a cowlick. The blue haired girl smirked and shook her head.

"Auri, you have to go to work."

"Ugh. Why do you keep saying that? Oh wait, because I pay the rent." She stood and shook her head, pulling her hair back into a quick pony tail, grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom. The blue haired girl looked down on the bed and sighed, letting her shoulders slide , drawing a small heart into the covers. She stood and walked to the doorway. The silence that hung in the air for the minutes between spoke volumes that the two didn't ever acknowledge.

It wasn't that Aurona didn't love Eijin. She did. The girl was wonderful and above all else, could keep pace with her, in more than one arena. The sad truth was that Eijin wasn't pulling her weight and hadn't been for months. It was wearing on 'Aurona's' last nerve. She looked out the window in the bathroom, seeing a rainbow, and letting a small smile and a breath of release pass her lips. The shower calmed her more than she knew that she needed. Eijin sat in the kitchen, letting a cup of coffee go cold, as she too starred out the window. Aurona sighed and pulled out the chair across from her.

"Look, Eijin..."

"No, you look Aurona. I've been looking. There aren't very many carrier positions left out there and honestly I'm not good at much else." She sighed and for a moment her normally happy blue eyes reflected the sad truth that surrounded them.

"You don't have to worry about it. I'll just... deal." Aurona said and sighed looking out the window, hoping one of those distant clouds would hold the answer the two women sought after. The sadness seemed to take over as Aurona stood, kissed Eijin's forehead and walked to the bedroom to get ready for the day.

On Writers Block and Having It

There comes a time in every writers life, where all the inspiration in the world could come and slap us straight in the face and it still wouldn't help. 'There it was! The greatest idea your muse ever put in your lap...' *silence* '...and there it goes'.

The terrible truth of the matter is that the wall that slams down between our imagination and our fingers is crippling. It seems that the disconnect itself is the very thing that will sap away our life energies. Ok, maybe it's just me. Running a writing group and writing your next great novel takes time, energy and creativity, all of which leave when writers block hits.

Because pictures of cats on the internet fix everything...

Now I've written seminars on how to ease the strain of writers black, delivered a few dozen from it's grasp, and routinely try to find ways to spur on others muses; even when my own is out of the office. Today and the last week or so has just not been one of those times.

Come back later this evening for a bit of fiction, that has been a long time in coming...

~Jessi

A Time for Silence

Why is that through all the social networking, all we can think about is relationships?
Sometime, just sometime, I'd love to see someone proclaim
“I broke up and I'm OK with being single!”
But wait, that too is about relationships
My social chatter is mostly noise confused and garbled
trying to push past the inanity of life
while failing miserably in my humble attempts
I 'like' peoples statuses and leave snarky remarks
I see people that I know will never, ever be good together
go through the ups and downs
and they expect me to go along for the ride.
This coaster only has room for two,
And
I'm not you so please step inside with your significant other
There are times when I cry for you
There are times when I laugh at your mistakes
I say “I've told you it'd never work”
and you threaten to strangle me every time
The truth is
I'm tired of seeing you all hurt
I'm tired of picking up pieces
the pieces with which you'll make the same mistakes
again
and again
and again.
I'm tired of being right
I'm tired of being wrong with my personal life
I'm just... tired
I want to be happy.
I want you to be happy to.
But for once, can't we just be happy
by ourselves?
No.
Because then we'd have no need for facespace and all the rest
We need others.
And we need to be wrong.
But I'm sorry I'm not 'like'-ing that new relationship status.
Call me callous, call me cruel
but when I pick up the pieces again
I'll try really hard not to say
“I told you so”

Dear 16 year old me.

Dear 16 yr old me,
Hey. How's 11th grade treating you? Awful I know. Still thought I'd ask. You haven't graduated from high school and college is still two years out. Grandma has just passed on. Princess will die soon, so give her a hug for me, please. But it gets better! That's the good news. The other bit of good news? You're going to be amazing. And I say that with a bit of perspective. You're 25 now, realizing that you're old, and looking at your little sister who just turned 18. She survived so far! It's practically cause of celebration. No death via sodium intake.

So here's the deal. High school wasn't easy and college doesn't get any easier. As a matter of fact, it just gets harder. You're going to have one of the hardest years of your life. And I truly mean that. I could show you the scars, but you need to experience them to grow. Out of freshman year, you realize that you're strong enough to live through the depression. You start to see that that quirky guy you met in Japanese civ, is going to save your life. Better yet? He's going to become one of your best friends. No really. We're still friends. Even after you kiss him and realize it's a little weird. Don't forget to compliment him on his skills. It's only polite.

Kit is still our best friend. She's gone to FL now, and it broke our heart. But she had to go, sadly. Soon enough she'll be home though. When? I don't know. But she will be home. She's been friends with us for 13 years now. Crazy huh?

You have friends that love you. You have guys that are amazed by you. They think you're beautiful, something we never thought would happen, right? Mostly for some uh, more physical reasons but that's neither here nor there. By the time you get here, you'll have experienced, love, loss, tragedy and joy that no one can ever take from you. You'll have been engaged, and so close to being married. And then you'll make the decision to end it. Because in the end, you're not the one for him. And trust me, there's more than the initial reasons.

These people change everything about you. They challenge you, they make you stronger, and you love them more for it. They're going to make you angry beyond belief, and push you until you think you're going to break. And they show you in the end, who you really are.

You start an amazing writing group with your best friend. And the support system that you create there for others is invaluable. Not only are you helping keep the creative spirit alive and well in the community, but you're writing. Just like Gram. Ok maybe gram didn't write about mutants, fate, death and coffee.

So life will get harder. But you have to know that even when you're sitting on the floor of your dorm thinking it's the end, you will get better. Honestly. And even though I know you'll never see this, I know someone who knows a 16 year old, soon to be 16yr old, or once was 16 will. Depression is a very real thing and needs to be addressed head on. So please always remember to be kind, hug often and laugh even more than you think your sides can take. Have one drink too many once in a while and lay in your best friends lap, listening to a good conversation. And just remember. You're going to be amazing.

Love,
Me.

On love, infatuation, and lust

It's funny that the longer I'm single or even just dating, the more I tend to wax poetic about love, lust and the feelings of twitter-pation (no it's not a word, but yes I'm using it anyway). Recently I ran into someone that made my heart skip. I can't tell you how long it's been since that happened. This realization that I'm still alive in the romantic sense, kind of made me happier than anything else in the world could have. And then there's the crushing reality of the potential relationship. There's the fear. There's the anxiety. There's the potential to be hurt. Again. Most of all it's probably best summarized in this quote by Neil Gaiman.

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."
— Neil Gaiman (The Kindly Ones)

I don't hate it. I just severely dislike it's unpleasant effects on my thought process. Like many, I tend towards stupidity in that I can't stop thinking about the other person I'm with. I don't even have to be with them constantly for it to happen. Heck the more I'm apart, I wonder what they're doing, hoping that they're having the best day possible, but knowing that something minor has gone wrong somewhere. I can't help but smile thinking I'll hear about it and try to fix it.

But gods be damned, when they let go, or you let go, and things begin to slip through the cracks... love is one of the most painful experiences. My heart breaks when I heard those words, or I had to say them.I cried for days when I realized I couldn't stop the inevitable. There's something about being faced with an oncoming train that makes me crumble in front of it.

So here I sit, after midnight, typing away at the things that have earned my ire. Are the relationships worth it? Yes. All the pain in the world is worth hearing someone sigh genuinely, and say "I love you". And for that... I'll eternally be a fool.

Namaste,
Jessi