A Small Recovery, But The Pain Remains.
I am not sure if I am yet done with beating myself up over my own failures. Though, I have stopped for the time being. My hands shake violently with love, despair, and hate. Five years later and I return to the same exact emotion of that day. Over sixty moons, and I've learned nothing from any of them. How is it so hard with myself to do this. It kills me to bear witness to myself in this situation. I had everything I neeeded to complete this spell of mine, except the knowledge to do the right thing.
In my nightmares a vacuum surrounds my physical form filled with a violent storm of fire and metal. I can see her in my dreams, and she dreams of me. Yet the violence before me, and the pain I endure, is too much. I throw myself awake and feel sick to my stomach. I lose myself in flashes of cold, heat, convulsions, and throw up the contents of my stomach. Too afraid to go back to sleep, I light some small candles around me and work a small spell to regain the rest that I would otherwise lose. I have been doing this all too often as of late, and the knowledge that I am sleeping maybe 3 hours a night rolls through my head. The physical body cannot handle much more of this strategy.
I open my mind to form a psionic link to my closest friend, but she doesn't answer. Perhaps she is busy, or no longer wishes my contact. I hate my paranoia, without it, I could probably be happy and even be loved. Is it my fault? The horrible things of this life? Should the bird sing me any song, I would eagerly respond without hesitation to the cost or cause.
I cross my heart in a familiar yet foreign manner, as the spell moving around me forms and I find myself awake with energy. I contemplate sending another message to her, through the ethereal plane in my grasp, but I think better of it. I cannot let my impatience for love and happiness lead to more despair and hate. I must control my emotions in the physical world, before I try to take hold of them and change myself into the next self. I must remind myself that Jheinka is not a person, but a soul, an essence, a persona... the me I wish to return to. The me she loved.
I wait calmly, consuming the fibers of a new day to substain myself. I cannot think of running away... not without her. Not again.
In my nightmares a vacuum surrounds my physical form filled with a violent storm of fire and metal. I can see her in my dreams, and she dreams of me. Yet the violence before me, and the pain I endure, is too much. I throw myself awake and feel sick to my stomach. I lose myself in flashes of cold, heat, convulsions, and throw up the contents of my stomach. Too afraid to go back to sleep, I light some small candles around me and work a small spell to regain the rest that I would otherwise lose. I have been doing this all too often as of late, and the knowledge that I am sleeping maybe 3 hours a night rolls through my head. The physical body cannot handle much more of this strategy.
I open my mind to form a psionic link to my closest friend, but she doesn't answer. Perhaps she is busy, or no longer wishes my contact. I hate my paranoia, without it, I could probably be happy and even be loved. Is it my fault? The horrible things of this life? Should the bird sing me any song, I would eagerly respond without hesitation to the cost or cause.
I cross my heart in a familiar yet foreign manner, as the spell moving around me forms and I find myself awake with energy. I contemplate sending another message to her, through the ethereal plane in my grasp, but I think better of it. I cannot let my impatience for love and happiness lead to more despair and hate. I must control my emotions in the physical world, before I try to take hold of them and change myself into the next self. I must remind myself that Jheinka is not a person, but a soul, an essence, a persona... the me I wish to return to. The me she loved.
I wait calmly, consuming the fibers of a new day to substain myself. I cannot think of running away... not without her. Not again.