Private Entry
[[ooc: Note that this is private and completely unhackable-only readable by the person who is in possession of the fon device. As such, anyone who comes in possession of the fon device would be able to read it… *Not so subtle cough in the direction of an oncoming log.*]]
Well, it would seem that Asch has returned from the little excursion I sent him on. I admit, I was surprised not to be met with more resistance on his part, though I suppose I can understand his reasons for being equally enthusiastic and reluctant about the project.
The project should indeed be my main focal point now. Especially after the disappearances-and consequent re-emergences-of Anise and Guy. Their memories were entirely expunged, which is in sharp contrast to the Professor, who experienced a ‘memorable death’ that I will refer to in my notes as a ‘Conjured Restoration Period’. The facts of her CRP, separate entirely from Shigure’s, might lead to an interesting and significant breakthrough…
If only I could truly get up the nerve to interview her, of course~
Laughable, and without a doubt, shameful on my part. A grown man, terrified of discussing a fabricated afterlife with a woman he himself sent there scarcely less than two times. How pathetic, and only supplemented by the illness at the pit of my stomach at idea of questioning Guy on his memory loss.
I never thought of myself so over-romantic as to find the fact that memory loss was the kindest solution to our ‘problem’ unbearable. I do realize it is well past the time to let go of these wounded feelings and… absurd aspirations that would take no less than a small miracle.
Still… it is… very difficult to let go of something of… such magnitude, even if it is no longer in your grasp. I feel undeniably foolish for admitting what I did to Guy in the first place, and so unwisely. It became startlingly true the moment the words were out. I can’t even allow myself to pen them now, without my fingers shaking in slight just by the full brunt of how exceptionally imbecilic they feel by my hand. Clearly, I am not in my twenties any longer, and fawning is best left for the young, brash, and hormonal…
…I cannot help but admit that the house is lonely without him, though. Still. Why he left in the first place is still somewhat an enigma, and the only respite from the rather stunning silence is the fact that Hiro busies Selenia, who would otherwise be curled at my feet, giving me a dauntingly pathetic stare, and wondering where the better and more lively of her two Masters had run off to.
I suppose… what is cutting… and Yulia, how exceptionally immature this will sound… is that I did put in the effort, in a manner I didn’t imagine myself motivated toward. It was appallingly pleasant to watch him smile, or to feel his lingering presence beside myself at intervals in the day, to the point where the pleasure derived from simple gestures made me seek them out like an awe-struck admirer. I did indeed wish him to be happy, and no less, happy with myself. I actively… sought that out, and just as actively failed.
Perhaps I haven’t grown at all. Still unwilling to face the brunt of harms of my own creation. I know very well I will look for excuses, loopholes in which to avoid Gailardia, simply because selfish desires will make his presence suffocating. Obviously, because I still…
Ah, then. I’ve written quite a bit, it would seem~
Well, then. Enough is enough.
Complaints will hardly earn back what has been lost, however desperately it may be wanted back, or however it was not meant to be let go of in the first instance.
I will never entirely understand what possessed Guy to leave, but it is about time I accept the consequences were for the best, and moved on to more important topics than a somewhat depressing romantic life that now consists of Saphir desperately trying to akin shared forks to… Yulia knows what.
Lorelei pity me the day I become that twisted and pathetic.
I do... miss him though. It does... hurt, rather immeasurably. And it is difficult to speak to him now, difficult to be pleased over circumstance. He was still willing to repeat those words in return, even after the seperation, before the memory erasure... I'm very disappointed in my own inadequates in dealing with this situation, and it is about time to work past them. Perhaps the only refuge there is is in expecting my own memory loss to occur on an eventual scale, however pitiable that sounds.
Well, it would seem that Asch has returned from the little excursion I sent him on. I admit, I was surprised not to be met with more resistance on his part, though I suppose I can understand his reasons for being equally enthusiastic and reluctant about the project.
The project should indeed be my main focal point now. Especially after the disappearances-and consequent re-emergences-of Anise and Guy. Their memories were entirely expunged, which is in sharp contrast to the Professor, who experienced a ‘memorable death’ that I will refer to in my notes as a ‘Conjured Restoration Period’. The facts of her CRP, separate entirely from Shigure’s, might lead to an interesting and significant breakthrough…
If only I could truly get up the nerve to interview her, of course~
Laughable, and without a doubt, shameful on my part. A grown man, terrified of discussing a fabricated afterlife with a woman he himself sent there scarcely less than two times. How pathetic, and only supplemented by the illness at the pit of my stomach at idea of questioning Guy on his memory loss.
I never thought of myself so over-romantic as to find the fact that memory loss was the kindest solution to our ‘problem’ unbearable. I do realize it is well past the time to let go of these wounded feelings and… absurd aspirations that would take no less than a small miracle.
Still… it is… very difficult to let go of something of… such magnitude, even if it is no longer in your grasp. I feel undeniably foolish for admitting what I did to Guy in the first place, and so unwisely. It became startlingly true the moment the words were out. I can’t even allow myself to pen them now, without my fingers shaking in slight just by the full brunt of how exceptionally imbecilic they feel by my hand. Clearly, I am not in my twenties any longer, and fawning is best left for the young, brash, and hormonal…
…I cannot help but admit that the house is lonely without him, though. Still. Why he left in the first place is still somewhat an enigma, and the only respite from the rather stunning silence is the fact that Hiro busies Selenia, who would otherwise be curled at my feet, giving me a dauntingly pathetic stare, and wondering where the better and more lively of her two Masters had run off to.
I suppose… what is cutting… and Yulia, how exceptionally immature this will sound… is that I did put in the effort, in a manner I didn’t imagine myself motivated toward. It was appallingly pleasant to watch him smile, or to feel his lingering presence beside myself at intervals in the day, to the point where the pleasure derived from simple gestures made me seek them out like an awe-struck admirer. I did indeed wish him to be happy, and no less, happy with myself. I actively… sought that out, and just as actively failed.
Perhaps I haven’t grown at all. Still unwilling to face the brunt of harms of my own creation. I know very well I will look for excuses, loopholes in which to avoid Gailardia, simply because selfish desires will make his presence suffocating. Obviously, because I still…
Ah, then. I’ve written quite a bit, it would seem~
Well, then. Enough is enough.
Complaints will hardly earn back what has been lost, however desperately it may be wanted back, or however it was not meant to be let go of in the first instance.
I will never entirely understand what possessed Guy to leave, but it is about time I accept the consequences were for the best, and moved on to more important topics than a somewhat depressing romantic life that now consists of Saphir desperately trying to akin shared forks to… Yulia knows what.
Lorelei pity me the day I become that twisted and pathetic.
I do... miss him though. It does... hurt, rather immeasurably. And it is difficult to speak to him now, difficult to be pleased over circumstance. He was still willing to repeat those words in return, even after the seperation, before the memory erasure... I'm very disappointed in my own inadequates in dealing with this situation, and it is about time to work past them. Perhaps the only refuge there is is in expecting my own memory loss to occur on an eventual scale, however pitiable that sounds.