I feel awful. Actually, I feel worse than that.
It is my own fault for not coming home sooner, I suppose, instead choosing to stay out in the woods even though I knew I was ill. I had no wish to come back, though. It was peaceful out there. Lonely too, but then I am just as lonely here as I was there. Moreso, really. Odd how I can feel so alone when I am so near to other people. Or maybe not.
They all seem so determined to make me choose. My love or my friends. My friends or my love. Those who helped me become who I am or the one to whom I have given my heart. What sort of choice is that? Leave him or lose us.
Is it any wonder that I am sick? I am not the strongest of women; a gross understatement if there was any. No matter how hard I try, I do not seem to put on any weight and physically I am as frail and weak as I appear. The stress of all this bickering, all these demands, are taking their toll on me.
My presence soothes Davick, or so he says. He has become more gentle and thoughtful in recent months either way. More merciful. He ascribes this change in him to my influence and has stated that should I be "taken from" him, then he would slaughter all those who barred his way to me. Whether meant or not, such a statement implies that I must remain with him lest I inadvertantly cause bloodshed. That alone would be cause enough for me to stay with him, but I know that our ties are stronger than even such a dire implication. I love the man dearly and I owe him so much. I cannot imagine my life without him in it, lurking in the shadows somewhere, always ready to aid me should I need him or simply sit with me for company.
Similarly, Drevorin needs me also. He claims that I keep him sane, that I prevent him from becoming a monster again. If that is so, then my leaving would only facilitate a return to what he used to be, opening the path of destruction to him once more. Could I live with myself if I caused such a thing? Never. More than that, though, I truly love him. Perhaps it is folly to do so, as so many others claim, but I cannot help my feelings.
I am tired. I am so tired of the fighting. It seems as if all I do is defend myself and my choices. To Drevorin I defend my choice to remain a friend to Davick. To everyone else I defend my choice to become betrothed to Drevorin. It is neverending and so disheartening. I feel crushed between the opposing forces, worn down and eroded until a gentle poke is all it will take to make me shatter into a thousand splinters. I wonder if I would sparkle beneath the sun...
They talk to me about their sanity, but what of mine? I swear I am being pushed to the very brink of it.
Soon, I must rest. Even the effort it takes to write this is wearing me out. Stubbornly, I have refused to allow the others to see how sick I am. I have told those few to ask that it is merely a cold and that I shall be over it soon. Better that they think so. They do not need to know how weak and infirm I truly feel. They need not know the extent of this ailment. It would not help them to be aware.
