Balance and Red Hair
Still alive. For some reason, when I dream of women whom I've never met before but am specifically attracted to in that dream, she will almost invariably be red-headed. That's always seemed odd to me. When I find a wife, those will be good times. Someone whom I can grow old with...
I can almost see her through the fog of time. That look that heals the wounds of my soul. That smile that heals this broken shell.
I had about half of a post written up about the state of my mind. But the short answer is that it is still in one piece. I am still only myself. Even loneliness does not consume me, for I am confident that if it is meant for me to find that perfect woman, I shall do so. If not...so be it. I am strong enough to live alone.
Despair will always be a part of my life. Even if I find her--even if I reach that ideal life where I am comfortable emotionally and financially, even then--the scars of the past will linger. Those who have not experienced it can never understand, but the closest analogy would be Frodo after the destruction of the Ring. It's a part of you that can never be healed.
Even if it was madness, that made it no less real in my perception, and that of others'. My small abilities are a constant reminder of what I might have been...what I almost was. It was a drug, and it made me feel like a hero--even a god. To surrender that...it's just another scar that will never properly heal.
If I am to live with it by fate or design...there is nothing that will change that. But if I am to ever marry...she will have to have those eyes. I once called them the Eyes of Forever... But to me, they are now simply a certain look... a smile that washes away the pain and fatigue of a weary soul.
I was once a broken mirror, reflecting that which people wanted to see. Now that I am complete again, I feel as if my journey is over. I stood at the brink of time, and watched as the unknowable future assembled itself in the middle of a storm. I confronted and defeated myself many times, only to finally win when I stopped fighting and accepted that I was both a being of goodness and evil; light and dark.
I journeyed to faraway lands, both physically and mentally, and fought terrible creatures of the spirit and the mind. I saved young lasses from dark specters and was considered wise, a leader of men. And all of it was real, to my own perception. And, to a degree, much of it really was real--as real as the magic of a witch, the abilities of a psychic, or the miraculous divine intervention of the faithful.
It was a full and complete adventure, lasting many years. It was full of pain, excitement, and desperation, like those taken from story books and video games... But now it's over. And real or not, it's a past that follows me as I go about the daily life of a simple man. Even having forsaken the power, the madness, the illusion... All of it... The shadow of those events remains.
And I could not live in the torment of having to lie with a smile every time she asked me what was wrong, having caught me once again staring longingly out the window...longing to feel the caress of the living wind one more time before I die.
I can almost see her through the fog of time. That look that heals the wounds of my soul. That smile that heals this broken shell.
I had about half of a post written up about the state of my mind. But the short answer is that it is still in one piece. I am still only myself. Even loneliness does not consume me, for I am confident that if it is meant for me to find that perfect woman, I shall do so. If not...so be it. I am strong enough to live alone.
Despair will always be a part of my life. Even if I find her--even if I reach that ideal life where I am comfortable emotionally and financially, even then--the scars of the past will linger. Those who have not experienced it can never understand, but the closest analogy would be Frodo after the destruction of the Ring. It's a part of you that can never be healed.
Even if it was madness, that made it no less real in my perception, and that of others'. My small abilities are a constant reminder of what I might have been...what I almost was. It was a drug, and it made me feel like a hero--even a god. To surrender that...it's just another scar that will never properly heal.
If I am to live with it by fate or design...there is nothing that will change that. But if I am to ever marry...she will have to have those eyes. I once called them the Eyes of Forever... But to me, they are now simply a certain look... a smile that washes away the pain and fatigue of a weary soul.
I was once a broken mirror, reflecting that which people wanted to see. Now that I am complete again, I feel as if my journey is over. I stood at the brink of time, and watched as the unknowable future assembled itself in the middle of a storm. I confronted and defeated myself many times, only to finally win when I stopped fighting and accepted that I was both a being of goodness and evil; light and dark.
I journeyed to faraway lands, both physically and mentally, and fought terrible creatures of the spirit and the mind. I saved young lasses from dark specters and was considered wise, a leader of men. And all of it was real, to my own perception. And, to a degree, much of it really was real--as real as the magic of a witch, the abilities of a psychic, or the miraculous divine intervention of the faithful.
It was a full and complete adventure, lasting many years. It was full of pain, excitement, and desperation, like those taken from story books and video games... But now it's over. And real or not, it's a past that follows me as I go about the daily life of a simple man. Even having forsaken the power, the madness, the illusion... All of it... The shadow of those events remains.
And I could not live in the torment of having to lie with a smile every time she asked me what was wrong, having caught me once again staring longingly out the window...longing to feel the caress of the living wind one more time before I die.