The Nightshade Princess
2002-02-25 03:15:19 (UTC)

of mists and mysteries

There were patches of the weekend in which it seemed
all the cheer had left me forever. Weekends at mother's
house are always less painful, but to be in those moods...
it felt like being stabbed, a sudden drop in emotion that
way. I grow weary as I type this. School is tomorrow, and
I look toward it with dread. I went to my grandmother's
house today. We went to the mall as we always do, and I
bought a lovely shirt of gauzy black material, whose
sleeves flare out like wings. I finally have something to
wear with the skirt I bought months ago of a similiar
fabric. I looked very witchy when I put it all on. I also
bought a vinyl skirt which I'd been eyeing at the mall in
my town for quite some time. I have managed somehow to
string my beautiful and powerful crystal onto a bit of
black ribbon. The velvet bag that had formerly contained
it was becoming cumbersome and frustrating. Between my
hematite and my crystal, I have managed to be mostly healed
by the time we went walking around today. I'm slightly
sore now but it's fading fast. I sang most of the hour and
a half drive, for my brother played "Jack off Jill" in the
car. I actually hit most of the notes, especially on Star
No Star and a couple of others whose names I can't quite
recall. I have a high, breathy voice like the lead singer,
and it is good practice, though I began slipping on my
accuracy and eventually stopped because I started sounding
terrible again. Actually, Star No Star brings to mind
memories perfumed with dust, tears, and Fire and Ice
perfume. I wore that often in those days. It makes me
remember someone and something that could have been... I
could have let myself fall in love with him, but then we
fought and it was too late. Something had been broken,
wounded... lost. I look at him now and laugh. He doesn't
seem the god - like being he was to me then. He can't
rouse my inner flames any longer. We went our own ways in
an almost violent explosion of emotion and passion and
stress that had broken all the chains of our self-
containment, and lept through the air like a rabid beast.
Indeed, he has become almost pathetic from all the drug use
that fried his brain and stole his personality from me. At
one point in time, he was romantic and caring and warm. We
could stare into each others' eyes for long, long moments,
and spoke from our souls. Now, he can't remember anything
distinctly, can't hold my gaze for any time. I laugh at
him now. It is like seeing a tall gargoyle statue when you
are a child, and being frightened for all it's size and
grotesque form, then returning to the same place 20 years
later to find that you are larger and more fierce than the
gargoyle ever could be. He could have trained his psychic
mind... those powers would have likely awakened in him as
they are beginning to awaken in me, but he has destroyed
that part of himself.
What is now between LesTaT and I is irreplacable, and
infinately more healthy and beautiful that what had been
between myself and this other, for our "relationship" had
been founded on obsession and lust and curiousity.
LesTaT's and my love is founded upon friendship and trust
and an almost chaste sense of closeness, like kittens
cuddling together. It is founded also upon deep emotional
and spiritual ties, which are stronger than any I've ever
formed. The lust and such things are just now beginning to
come into play ::smiles:: and I am quite relieved. I
worried that our relationship would become TOO chaste and
simply turn into a romantic friendship, which would not be
a bad thing, but they tend to be frustrating, the couple re-
uniting over and over again, but lack that certain spark
which animates lovers. I have been in several of these,
neither myself nor the other person (always male) could
understand WHY it wasn't working, when all other aspects
were largely in place. I must go now... the Silence shall
devour me if I stay longer.

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