Found:
It's been a little over a week since my worse fears were realised as reality. In some ways it feels like forever, like I lost him months or even years ago, or like I never had him at all. Was that short period of time in which we were together and happy naught but a dream? A briefly held delusion of a potential happy ending?
The pain in my heart, and the Yule gift he made with his own two hands, tells me otherwise. It was real, all of it was, and I find myself wondering if that is a good or bad thing. Surely, if we had never come together again, if he had chosen her instead, or if we had remained as naught but friends, then I would feel differently now. Upset, yes, but not flayed to the bone, raw, and bleeding. A quivering mass of despair.
It is a cruelty beyond imagining to have been so happy for such a tiny amount of time, to have seen such potential for a shared future, to have my dreams and desires within reach... only to have them snatched away so quickly and in such a manner.
Further proof, I think, that if a Higher Power does, indeed, exist then he - or she - is a sadistic twat undeserving of faith, regard or acknowledgment.
I am struggling. I know I am. This state of affairs must change.
I can't bring him back, but I can move forward. Hasn't that always been my way? One foot in front of the other. Keep going. Never stop. But I have stopped. I feel stuck in place, between what was, what is, what could have been, and where I should go from here.
I'm trying to surround myself with people at the moment, trying to find some comfort in the living, but there is little to be had. Quite aside from how detached I feel, there is the slight problem of their questions. Always questions. Constant reminders of things that I don't want to think about right now, or cannot bring myself to speak on. Even Tilton, of all people, has offered me a shoulder to cry on. If I wanted to cry, I'd certainly not do it in the middle of the pissing tavern!
Rahvic remains a thoughtless ass, taking his poor mood out on the - admittedly ugly - hat of Kelynn. Dernwynn, I've seen little of, though I am fine with this. She always asks about him, always offers to help. She just won't let it go. I'm sure she's just trying to be a good friend, but I just cannot face it right now. I don't want to talk about him, I don't want to talk about what happened, I don't want to... and then, of course, there is Jamar. 'tis not his fault, of course. He is completely blameless in this and I feel no resentment for the child, but I just can't see him without being reminded of dreams I held so dear that will now never be realised.
Only Khazim has been of any real comfort, though I sincerely doubt he realises this. He doesn't ask. He doesn't pry. He turns my attention onto other things and, for the duration of the conversation, I don't hurt. It's a brief respite, but it is appreciated.
That's what I need. Not help, not well-meaning but ultimately useless platitudes, not pity or sympathy or questions or reminders. Just... a few moments absence of pain.
I'll get there in my own time, if I hold on.
