Wild:

I was cleaning my computer today, and I found this.


 me:  Hey.

 Leona:  Hola gorgeous.

 me:  How's it going?

 Leona:  Reading rose emails
Confused
Rereading

 me:  Well.... about that.
I....
I talked to Ryan today.
He smashed his splinter bottle.

 Sent at 9:22 PM on Wednesday

 me:  We had a discussion.
I had .... a bit of a break down... but I'm okay.
I feel.... better.
More like myself.
More like myself than I have since....
I can't remember when.
Sighs And I love you.

 Leona:  Still

 me:  What's confusing about the emails?

 Leona:  Though everything thing

 me:  It isn't going to change. I'm sorry. I'm okay with you not changing, but it won't.
I can't change that. Not only do I not want to try, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't if I did.
You make me happy.
Happier than anyone else has.

 Sent at 9:26 PM on Wednesday

 me:  I'm not going to hit you with any more of me. It's not what you want, and if you're making me happy, then what right do I have to harm you or hinder your wishehs?
*wishes
Breath
So.
Emails.
What's going on?

 Sent at 9:27 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  I like being "hit with you"
It's a different bit of you
You know, you, I love
sigh
You say I make you happy?
Everyone else is telling you how damn unhappy I make you

 me:  You do make me happy.
That doesn't mean you can't hurt me.
In fact, the ones we love most are often the ones that harm us most also.
Sappho said it, and now I understand.
And if they say that, and don't understand the worth of every moment I'm with you, then they haven't loved, not really.
they can't understand  how every time I look at you, the guilt and the pain he left me goes away, and I'm who I'm supposed to be--who I Feel like after he spoke to me today.
He... he let me go.
Pats hand, nods slowly, not looking at her I believe he's surrendering.

 Sent at 9:34 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  closes eyes turning away This-  I don't have words right now

 me:  I'm surprised as well. But I had... a lot to say today.
He forgives me.
I....the hole. You're always talking about it, how I have it.
I feel... better.
I think it was him..
Holding on to me in a way I couldn't let go of, couldn't forgive myself for.
I haven't felt half-dead once since I spoke to him--and normally, I... I do. Feel that way.
I find myself surprised to be breathing, because thinking about anything hurts.
I don't feel that way now.
...I don't think I will again.
It's a miracle. I've been Thanking God.

 Leona:  ... forgive the past.

 me:  I'm trying. I think I have a chance.
Not that it matters.
You're safe.
I did it.
You're safe.
Look, look at the forum--he's even changed my picture back.
 Sent at 9:39 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  He even posted your conversation

 me:  .....He did?
I'm... sorry... if that hurt you.
I asked him to.
I hope it's all right.
I thought you would perhaps want to know?

 Sent at 9:40 PM on Wednesday
 me:  ...and he edited. A lot.

We were in a parking lot, for God's sake.

 Sent at 9:42 PM on Wednesday
 me:  I'm sorry.
I could take it down?
Could you say something please?
I'm worried.

 Leona:  He told me he edited it
That there was much more... crying and empty eyes

 me:  Nods slowly Yes.... I couldn't help it.
 Leona:  Telling me how people will make us fight for sport
Just to see our hearts break
Just to see you weak

 me:  As I Said.
The only weakness I have....
...is the one I never, ever want to lose.
Ah, shit.
But I won't pressure you.
When your life changes, when you need to go.... I... I'll understand.

 Leona:  Dear god
I'm not leaving

 me:  Not today and not tomorrow. But years from now?
You told me.
You told me you were, do you remember that?
"I'm not a constant."
I feel like those words are etched for my skull.
and I don't care.
I have now.
I have now and that's all that matters.

 Leona:  I'm not a constant. It's true.

 me:  Don't....
Tell me that today.
I've had enough... of that... today.
Please.

 Sent at 9:49 PM on Wednesday

 me:  ...All I asked him to do was to tell him about the conversation he'd posted.

 Leona:  I can't there for you the way you're there for me. But damn it if you you think for one minute that I wouldn't die for you, that I don't love you, that I don't care about you, and want to know you, see you-
Then your faith in me is a lie. I will do what I can to change that,

 me:  I know better.
Some days I don't want to.
It'd be so much easier to let you go if you didn't love me at all.
I've spent years from everyone who really knows me hearing that. I wish I could explain that better.
I wish I had a box filled with the happiness you give me.
That way when the light in there blinds me and I start crying when you aren't paying attention, I could just hand it back
and you'd look at me, and I'd look at you, and you'd know.
Can't do it.
There isn't a big, pretty enough box.
Nah. Only person who can hold this is me.
Shakes head
I have more faith in you than anyone, Katie Gundlach.
Including, I'm sorry, myself.

 Leona:  sighs I know, I know.
But the... lack of love of self.

 me:  I used to much more.
I think.... I think I Can learn again.

 Leona:  Love thyself.
I pray so

 me:  ....In that email I didn't ask him for (I'm assuming it came in an email) what did he say?
And why'd you turn away?

 Sent at 9:56 PM on Wednesday


 Leona:  Your life is changing because of me and I don't know if it's for better or worse

 me:  Oh.
Well, that's an easy enough question to clear up.

 Leona:  I am your weakness. You've told me.
This weakness... it is what has allowed you to get hurt
People... No, Roses, taking advantage of you.

 Sent at 9:59 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  They don't think I make you happy, they think I make you a poor ruler. A- A weakling. So unlike yourself.
And still this piece of me, this huge piece of me sees you as more yourself then ever before.

 me:  I'm... different?
How?

 Sent at 10:01 PM on Wednesday

 me:  As for them.... they're right. I'm weak. I'm also stronger than I've ever been. I'm also fighting harder than I ever have. And I don't care what they think. I'm happy.
You're right. I wasn't yesterday, thsi morning, whatever.
But I am now.
They say, "Tomorrow's a new day."
Fuck that.
No, not a new day.
A moon. My moon. And it's bright like day, and for the first time on seeing it, I see it. I'm not looking for vampires....
I.... I'm thinking of you.
With this love in me, there is no grading system. I wi-can-am--the greatest ruler they've ever seen.
And with you at my side?
I believe that.

 Sent at 10:04 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  That's what I needed to hear.
That's what they need to hear.
The people.

 me:  And so they will.
I serve the people.

 Sent at 10:07 PM on Wednesday

 me:  And--and--I notice you negated to answer my charmingly self-serving question.
Different?

 Sent at 10:08 PM on Wednesday
 Leona:  \
You are.
Not bad, not good, different,
I can't describe it.

 me:  Oh.
I feel I shouldn't apologize for being myself.
But your answer confuses me.

 Leona:  Don't appologize.
Ever.

 me:  Shoves Is that an order?

 Sent at 10:16 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  No. I no longer want you taking orders,
And that one is an order
I don't want to be your superior, your ruler. That;s not how love works.
Although I'd like less shoving.
winks

 me:  Giggles
I'll work on that.

 Leona:  Thanks darling

 me:  What did he say, btw?

 Sent at 10:21 PM on Wednesday

 me:  He went over my head to send it.
So it had to have been good.

 Sent at 10:25 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  You told him to inrom me right?
Inform*
He did
And did a lot of, wow, I've seen a side of her no one has seen. Thank you I think.
But still you suck

 me:  Tilts head
Those sentences don't go together.

 Sent at 10:28 PM on Wednesday

 Leona:  He doesn't like me, as he sould
And the weakness in you, the hurt in your eyes, he hates that too
Blames me
But thanks me
I think he's torn

 me:  Yes.... torn is a good word for that man.
Further, Torn will be a good word for that man for a very long time.

 Sent at 10:31 PM on Wednesday

 me:  I could see?

 Sent at 10:33 PM on Wednesday

 me:  Also... about this hat...
Generally, after you pay the ransom, you generally take the kidnap victim home with you, not leave the poor fellow company.
Now he has a bracelet and an enchanted ring, pining.
Poor, fluffy grey plume.

Sometimes I smile at these. Friends. Friends are good....

Wild:

Talked to Sean last night. He makes me feel like it's okay to be human, too. There's been a lot of that going on this week and it's a relief to be honest. I feel hope. I like hope.
He and I decided:
One- that Katie is Saraneth (strength and binding), that Sean is Belager (speech and cleverness), and that I am Mosrael (sends the ringer into death, brings the living to life/ I take their pain and make them alive apparently)
two- that I should get skype (done)
*three- that sleep is overrated (?)
four- that he, "Kate" (lololol) and I should hang soon

also we had massive book love discussion


It's...... it's so nice to have somebody like him around. Even if it's just to text the night away with, I feel like myself. I feel like I can breathe, and it makes me so happy I could cry.

But I won't. Sean isn't so much an emotional guy. :pp

Small steps....

Wild:

Saturday: Renfaire with Sarah. Bought a new Necklace I've now enchanted to feed me instead of a White Knight. Wheee, self-reliance. Sarah learned a lot about me; that I can dance the old-style dances and that I look good in a Corset and that Rachel from Four Winds will hate me for eternity; even if I won't explain why. I was sunburned, too. So badly burned. And there was this seller of full ensembles at a place called Fox something Renaissance and he and his co-worker were....flirting with me. Both of them. I can't tell how flattering that was, how pretty I felt. He took pictures of me for his website, even. He flushed when I smiled at him. I haven't felt so.... at peace... in ages. There was a group of singers there that sang A capella Medieval music that was beautiful and I harmonized and a woman offered me a job there if I felt like traveling--she gave me a card. She said my voice was like the moon on the beach. '

I'm calling her, I'm emailing her, I will NOT leave her alone until I get a chance to sing with them, make love to their voices with my voice. Travel with them in a world like this one.

There were belly dancers there. I couldn't take my eyes off them, there was a woman with dark hair that reminded me of Dyrim who flirted with a Knight. A flower fell from her hair and he picked it up off the ground and held it to his heart and I loved them and I loved everything and the sun was on my shoulders and I ate chocolate cheesecake and the world was perfect. Perfect. I bought soap from a man whose wife had a Doctor Who theme for her text message tone; we eagerly discussed River Song....

No Roses. Not one. What would it be like if they could be out in the sun, could live and walk as people do? I want so much that to happen, I want a world where I can be that person again. Feel like I did then. My voice was slipping into Queen....
 
I bought a necklace. Quartz. And a charm; the symbol Wungo, the letter W, which stands for Balance in the Norse alphabet. I chose it at random before I found out what it meant and tied it to my quartz.


Sunday: Eau Claire with Sam and Paula. Waterpark and Arcade Tom foolery.

Monday: More tom foolery; a long drive. See Finley. Sam and I have nothing in common but I really like her; she's so friendly and kind. I worry about the impact of her stressful life on her mind. She actually had a little breakdown on Sunday, the poor thing. She's so delicate for her strength and I want so much for her to trust me, be close to me. Just so I can be close to her, trust her.

Today: Saw and hung with Johnny Friedl all day today. Told him about the Roses, but not--not too much. I made a huge fucking effort to strive away from that part of my life, really be human. Johnny makes me so happy and I wish I had more to offer him for his kindness. We talked about him a little bit, and I wish we had talked about him more.... he needs someone to listen. He said if it's okay with Katie I should go clubbing Friday. OMGOMGOMGOMG HUMAN REVEL? o_o My dream, a reality.

Tomorrow:

Thursday:

Friday:

Saturday:

Sunday:

My life:

My future:




But? No.... no Roses. I'm learning to be okay with that. I felt sun on my limbs..... I can live without them. I can. I can. I have to. I'll fall in love and change my soul and dance with pretty women and read Shakespeare and get too much sun and live. I feel like it's sinking in: it's done, it's safe. This is only memories.  I'll be nothing now. Soon I won't need even to advise, my regency will keep my people safe.


I want so much to fall in love. Real love this time. No devotin, I want to live and breathe and be wild and crazy and young--because I haven't been. Ever.

God, please.....

Wild: Fragment

I will walk in a Dead Man’s Garden,
I will put my white hands on the sun
I will close my dim eyes to the whiteness;
I will walk with my feet on the grass.

Wild: Human War

Sometimes there isn't anything you can say or do. There's someone in trouble and you can't save them, there's something that hurts too much to heal and you're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. For a long time that entire situation has been my life, really. It's dramatic but there it is.

And the people who don't read this don't believe me, the people who do read this might not, even. But I believe what I have lived, with, without your consent, your belief. Your belief does not make my pain less for having experienced it, nor do the words of comfort you forget to offer when it suits you soothe my hurt.

I still want to help you.

I love you, all of you, each and every one. Now that I'm human, now that I'm awake again and I can live, all I want to do is fix the people I have harmed and stop myself from ever hurting those people again. Stop myself from chaining anyone else to a throne that will, I know now, always be waiting for me to come back to it.

But here are my words.

Sedition.
Love.
Eternity.
Soul. 
Shattered/Legendary/Mythical/Mermaid Queen
Queen 
Moon-Queen 
Water
Eliac
Gay (guilty) 
Finley
Katie
Empty room, lonely nights, a ring that isn't true
Hope (Midsummer night's dream (see above: Queen)("Lord, What fools these mortals be!") ) 
Future, move on
Let go
Freedom, fight, Warrior Human
Wild.....


I will always want to help you. I will always care and fight for you, and listen and council. My life has been hard, though no one has seen it; and the greatest things I'm ever like to do have passed in a shadow. I will tell my story if you ask me for it, and my God, do I want someone to ask for it. Do I want to prove to someone I am and have been the Mermaid Queen, the Balance Queen, the Queen-who-found-her-soul. But you won't. Who wants to see me--me, plain old me--as a Warrior? It's easier to write me off as awkward.

I think that the Rose problems were easier than real life. I might've been tortured and I might've screamed and there was pain, but I was used to it. When I woke up in the morning I had time to contain myself, hide my pain, my secrets. Now I don't even have that; I have silence and a phone that doesn't ring and people who refuse to acknowledge me or abandon me like Elizabeth.... I chose a human path to better myself, but the more I look at this, the more I realize I have no chance to be myself here. No one who is willing to recognize my talent, my loyalty, my heart and my devotion. I feel invisible and heartbroken.

Human is so much harder.

Human is so much harder a war, too, because there is no Lord Azrael to fight now....only me. Only myself and my own desires, which will hurt everyone no matter how careful I am.

I want help and there's no one that I can ask for it fairly. I'll probably hurt them, too. I don't even care about me as much as hurting the people around me; the people who've waited so patiently for me to have this fun little fucking revelation. Not Finley, who gives me a blank, searchingly pained expression whenever I start to verge again on the topic of, 'What if you didn't have me?'. Not Katie, who is so immersed in trying to dig herself out of pain I didn't give her the chance to recover from she can barely think straight; who I watch the pain behind the smiles for and know there's nothing I can offer her but space.

Not my Mother, who would sigh and say, 'Payton, what am I going to do with you?' Not the people who've spent their whole time at my side being judgmental and never really knowing me, never really giving me the chances I fought tooth and nail to live for.

Human war. Human war.




I'm losing.

Wild:

I want to claim what I was
but it isn't there, it fell
through a hole in the ground like your foot in a groundhog hole
snap

broken ankle.

I don't know what to do with this
myself, anymore
I feel like I didn't just fall in the hole, I tore at the dirt
I stand on the edge of the earth's crust, earth's crust
and nothing to look at but fire and anger

tears run down my face
because no matter what I Do, I lose
and I want to tear my fingers through my hair
because no one else will

except for blind devotion
which I cannot now and never will write off as love.

Fire that I cannot summon rain for
is just fire
is just rain

these tears

I want to be empty for the first time in my life
I want to not feel anything, let alone all I'm feeling
I want this basement to not be empty, I Want---



nothing.


Anymore. I can't want anything, can I? For a life I don't have, I Can't want?

I have that life plan that I read
so horribly-written, so simply human
and it doesn't give me hope, does it?

It doesn't give me anything, and neither does this.


Words on a page don't fuel me
neither does the fire that I stare at while I'm here
I want something to do, I want to walk in the sun
but the sun doesn't want me, does it?

Sometimes I feel like nobody does.

I want arms, I want someone to say, 'I see you, Payton,'
but they don't look.

I hold this porcelain fox, adjust his scarf
admire Sean's poetry.




















I don't know what to do
and this just hurts.

Wild: waving to an empty life

 Aary says:
 If you need a clear conscience, see a priest.

Lady says:
 No.
 No, I don't think so.
 What exactly would I tell them?
 'Yes, I spent my life looking for my soul and she shot me down becuase it probably wasn't real and I hurt somebody I loved looking for her'?

Aary says:
 Sounds more like something you'd take to a shrink.
 Get to the point Payton.
 You want to talk, fine.
 But give me a good reason to want to see you.

Lady says:
 I miss you.
 I was a horrible person to you.
 Every Queen and King are told to find their soul in the dickish mythical kingdom I just destroyed.
 Listening? Destroyed. Burned. To pieces.
 I get to have a human life now.

Aary says:
 Indeed you do.
 Happy times.

Lady says:
 The first thing I Want to do for that human life is kiss your feet, Elizabeth.
 I did some horrible shit to you.
 I feel like I caught my breath.
 I want to give us a chance. A regular, honest chance. Even if I don't deserve it or you don't want it.

Aary says:
 Right....
 How stupid do you think I am?

Lady says:
 Stupid? You?

Aary says:
 You must think I am close to be mentally retarded.

Lady says:
 No!

Aary says:
 Because you've done this dance around me a million times.
 Right when you hit rock bottom, you run to me and plead and bed and swear it's different.
 Pick yourself up because I'm not your crutch any more.
 You blew it Payton.
 I really did like you, and at a certain point I even loved you.
 But that ship sailed long ago.

Lady says:
 That's my name. Payton. I will never be Eliac again, I just gave away my world. I feel like you felt.
 I don't want things to be like they were, I want to be better.

Aary says:
 How do you know what I feel?

Lady says:
 Things to be better, too.
 FELT. Not feel.
 You deserve better than that, Liz.

Aary says:
 Right...
 Sure.
 I deserve better than...whatever you're talking about.

Payton says:
 Yes. Yes you do.

Aary says:
 I'm not sure exactly what fantasy you've created for yourself with now, but I'm not taking part of it.

Payton says:
 You as a friend.
 You knowing the me I couldn't give you but now can.
 A chance.
 If a chance is fantasy....

Aary says:
 No.
 There is no chance.
 There is nothing between us anymore Payton.

Payton says:
 Exactly.

Aary says:
 You destroyed that bridge too much.

Payton says:
 Let me repair it.

Aary says:
 No.
 The past cannot exist again.

Payton says:
 I don't want it to.

Aary says:
 And I will never let it exist.
 This is getting us no where.
 Your offer of friendship?
 I refuse.
 And that is all there is to say anymore.

Payton says:
 Oh no there isn't.

Aary says:
 Then say it to someone who will listen.
 Because I'm done wasting my time with you.

Wild:

I walked into a bakery today. The one near Finley's house. They had a help wanted sign in the window.

It's clean, but not obsessively. Dirt seems to have been absorbed into the original building and is somehow charming rather than dingy. Lighting's fair. There's a giant window and the letters painted on it are peeling a little. Everything is well-worn and much loved. People look happy and it smells like coffee. Not too much decoration, nothing noticeably pretty, and it occurs to me that this place is a little more about necessity than pleasure.

Bakeries. Gotta love 'em.

There was a woman with black hair and age hiding around her eyelids tending the counter; I could see workers in the back, making this or that, buzzing, laughing together. I could smell the companionship.

"When you're done, I'd like a picture of your boys," she said with a low, throaty laugh to a father of two sons, "If that's okay? Add it to the guest album? Your girls, too," she said to another father. No mothers. I wonder if that's statistically improbable or just a useless detail?

As the first father leaves the line. "I see how it is," I say with a wink, "I'm too big to be cute, mm?" She laughed.

"Not at all, but boss'll only let the little ones in." Her face is worn like leather. One of her lips used to have a piercing and her voice is low and scratchy like bad tweed.

I like her.

"I saw your sign," I said, enunciating clearly, pretending I were a hipster with confidence and witty replies. "I'd like an application, please?"

She grinned. "You're the first! We don't even have the official applications yet, sweetie." River Song?

I take it as an omen, one I like far better than the grey and lowering sky this morning.

She tore off a sheet of paper, an order form for a bakery-type order, and hands it to me. "Write you down," she says with a shrug. Brushing her black hair away from her leathery face, she hands me a pen with an American flag on it.

I wrote my name, the date, that I was eager to learn and personable, good with people--all the true lies we tell ourselves when we look for things.

"Okay," she said in a low voice, "that's my boss there. He's a little direct--"

"You!" he booms. He's got a beard, thinning hair, glasses from the nineties, and looks bored. He certainly isn't a stereotypical rosy-cheeked sweet-maker, and I decide I like that, too.

I could feel at home here, I tell myself, surprised when I realize it's true.

"You," I repeat obediently, winking. He laughs again, only it sounds scratchy here. I wonder if everyone has a scratchy something here; scratchy skin or scratchy voice like the Counter-woman....maybe I could have a scratchy perception of reality?

He flashes a clean smile in my direction. "Shelia says you're a college student," he asked, staring at my orange dress and knotted hair. I nod.

"Evening classes only," I promise. "I'm available in the mornings and afternoons, and no classes on Thursday or Friday. I'd also work Weekends--"

He shook his head. "Girlie," he said, "Why do you want this job?"

I look at him. "No windows," I blurt.

Shit. Way to be weird, Payton.

"What?" He looks suspicious of me, like I were a medically-diagnosed insane person or some such.

"I interviewed at a place yesterday that made circuits," I said slowly, trying to wrap my head around being brief and efficient like this man clearly wanted of his employees; "The pay was good and they had benefits and the hours were flexible....but there wasn't any real human life there. People worked the smiles right off their faces there, they did. It was hot and people were irritable...and there weren't any windows. No way to see the sun, the sky...." I choked on my monologue, the one I'd been too afraid to give to Finley; peeking up at the baker from under my eyelids.

Part of me was waiting for disbelief or incredulity, but he looked fascinated. I almost spun in relief.

Almost.

"I told myself I'd never work in a place like that," I said. "I want somewhere with warmth, with laughter and communication and people. I want a place that feels like home....I want a place like here."

I bit my lip, nervous again, as he stared.

"What did you say your name was?" Black-haired woman, frosting some doughnuts and eavesdropping, smiles encouragingly in my direction, feeling like a combination of a maternal figure and a hipster who loves this direct, hair-thinning baker.

"Payton," I answered. "Payton Thompson."

He smiled, waved a hand. "I'll remember you," he said. "Expect to hear from us soon." Baker shook his head, strolling towards the back, jingling his keys in his big hands. "No windows...." he muttered.

"Thank you!" I called.

I walked out with a smile, pausing to lay a finger on the huge, peeling letters painted on the window.

The Window.

The huge, sun-through-the-air window.


By the time I hit the sidewalk I'm wiping away tears. 







Hope.