What exactly was that, some form of torture that only I could place upon myself? To follow suit after a woman I knew had no intentions of conversating with the likes of foreigner. Only for it to happen, and for how real it was in that moment that it made the coals in my eyes wander like stars crashing throughout the sky. I never thought I'd be relatively interested in writing within a journal, but these thoughts cannot be left writhing within my mind. -_-_--_- (The lines suddenly scratched the paper, the stencil obviously being moved erratically for a moment.) As I was saying.. or rather writing, whatever she was. She was more of an anomaly than I was, like a banshee in black. Walking into a Tavern for one thing and one thing only. Her disinterest was inviting to me, like a warm embrace welcomed on a winters night. I had never offered an escort, or my seperate time to more than a few select individuals. This woman, whatever she was and wherever she was.. I hope I never find you again, unless you find me. Because I must stay as a man of my word, if I don't what kind of man am I? I suppose, in the end it was a good thing. A jumpstart to my true, unadulterated emotions. Whatever she was, it was good and bad for me. So thank you, banshee.
