[Salyssa] coping with change
Last night was wonderful. I truly hadn't realized how much I've missed working with him. I was in top form; I was able to completely handle the fluid chemistry and transfer, leaving him to work on his specialty of fleshcrafting--and I assisted there as well, with framework and stitching. This despite having gotten tipsy (for the first time in any of my unlives!) a few hours before. Purging the alcohol from my system did leave me with a nagging headache. I still don't know if he experienced the hangover effect; I would not be surprised at all to find that he did, and enjoyed it.
Talking with Sebrawyn helped me realize that I had not forgiven myself for my--questionable role in the Doctor's unwilling adventures in the Alliance. Or, perhaps, that I had not fully accepted his forgiveness of me. At any rate, telling her that he had forgiven me, and then accepting her forgiveness, somehow made it real enough that I feel I can finally truly accept it. I've been hiding in my laboratory far too long (getting some excellent work done, though). It's past time for me to emerge and interact with the world outside again. (reminders: Magister Zulore ((sp?)); worgen Chalfriald; ask Amatiara re: communication with Arland)
Seeing them together was... I expected to have an emotional reaction, but there didn't seem to be one, as far as I could tell. The only change in the feelings between us is the removal of what I can only describe as a level of romantic passion, something that he honestly never seemed comfortable with. If it is easier for him to feel that with her, that is for the best. He does seem more emotionally stable--happier. Everything I have seen and heard of her leads me to believe that at the very least she will not be damaging to him emotionally. Of course, these things can never be told in advance. But it is not my decision to make, nor my responsibility to police. I will continue to be his friend, and provide assistance as allowed and requested. And perhaps take occasional comfort from him at times. If I decide to allow myself the capacity to have emotions, I have to tolerate the fact that at times, those emotions may be unpleasant or uncomfortable; and while I cannot avoid these negative feelings, I am not required to deal with them alone. For some reason, that concept is surpassingly difficult for me to remember and accept. Pride? Habit? I suppose it doesn't matter.
It was interesting to see the difference in how I handled the alcohol consumption now, from when I was addicted. A part of myself was constantly standing aside, unaffected, watching my reactions and ready to step in, take control, and purge the effects at any second. I never felt--completely relaxed. I noticed that, and somewhat missed the feeling of dissolution that I experienced when overindulging while mortal. I know this way is much better, far better. The addictions solved nothing, and made many things worse, so I am content to do without that potential illusionary respite.
I have to admit that I did look longingly at his axe several times. On examination, my feelings about him are fairly straightforward and uncomplicated. My feelings about the axe are far more difficult and tangled. I'm tempted to ask if I can... fel, I don't know. Take the axe on a date? Carry it off to a secluded location for intimate discussions? The mental image is absurd, and strangely attractive.
Talking with Sebrawyn helped me realize that I had not forgiven myself for my--questionable role in the Doctor's unwilling adventures in the Alliance. Or, perhaps, that I had not fully accepted his forgiveness of me. At any rate, telling her that he had forgiven me, and then accepting her forgiveness, somehow made it real enough that I feel I can finally truly accept it. I've been hiding in my laboratory far too long (getting some excellent work done, though). It's past time for me to emerge and interact with the world outside again. (reminders: Magister Zulore ((sp?)); worgen Chalfriald; ask Amatiara re: communication with Arland)
Seeing them together was... I expected to have an emotional reaction, but there didn't seem to be one, as far as I could tell. The only change in the feelings between us is the removal of what I can only describe as a level of romantic passion, something that he honestly never seemed comfortable with. If it is easier for him to feel that with her, that is for the best. He does seem more emotionally stable--happier. Everything I have seen and heard of her leads me to believe that at the very least she will not be damaging to him emotionally. Of course, these things can never be told in advance. But it is not my decision to make, nor my responsibility to police. I will continue to be his friend, and provide assistance as allowed and requested. And perhaps take occasional comfort from him at times. If I decide to allow myself the capacity to have emotions, I have to tolerate the fact that at times, those emotions may be unpleasant or uncomfortable; and while I cannot avoid these negative feelings, I am not required to deal with them alone. For some reason, that concept is surpassingly difficult for me to remember and accept. Pride? Habit? I suppose it doesn't matter.
It was interesting to see the difference in how I handled the alcohol consumption now, from when I was addicted. A part of myself was constantly standing aside, unaffected, watching my reactions and ready to step in, take control, and purge the effects at any second. I never felt--completely relaxed. I noticed that, and somewhat missed the feeling of dissolution that I experienced when overindulging while mortal. I know this way is much better, far better. The addictions solved nothing, and made many things worse, so I am content to do without that potential illusionary respite.
I have to admit that I did look longingly at his axe several times. On examination, my feelings about him are fairly straightforward and uncomplicated. My feelings about the axe are far more difficult and tangled. I'm tempted to ask if I can... fel, I don't know. Take the axe on a date? Carry it off to a secluded location for intimate discussions? The mental image is absurd, and strangely attractive.