Letter to Germany

Dear Germany,

I remember when we went to see Captain America before you left (hah, was it really that long ago that the Avengers were a new thing?) and I cried when Bucky fell out of the train and Steve had to mourn losing him. You thought I was a dork. I totally was. But I think now, I may have been that sort of precognizant dork that recognized a loss of my own coming. There is no one I’ve encounter that I have the bond with that I had with you. I suppose part of that is age. Such is being an adult. The world is your own; wholely.

God know Rogers has been a good friend. I can’t really fault him in any way. I’ve been withdraw for years now. There’s no new friend who could get under my skin and into my soul like you did back in the day.

Obviously not anymore.

Honestly, I don’t know whether we truly ever had it like that. Did we? Or was it just the innocence of youth that sort of gave us those rose-tinted glasses and the idea of this other person that could be part of our soul (without the messy romantic bullshit).

It was a beautiful idea regardless. Whether a lie or not.

These days feel like shadows. I can’t recapture that ideal of before no matter how much I reach. It could be that I’m not trying hard enough, but my ability is such that I’m not able to try harder. I would that I could. Such is my mantra for the moment. For the year. For this lifetime.

I would that I could.

There was so much shit in high school. So much. And yet, I would pry out the bit of idealistic friendship I had there for a couple years if I could. Because god knows I’ve never found it since. There is nothing wrong with my current group of friends. I know they try. But I just don’t open my soul like I used to. I don’t let anyone, platonic or otherwise, pry their way into that dark dank recess of what used to be a giving and loving place.

Obviously no longer.

I don’t have any magic excuses or apologies really to give you. I’m a selfish person at this point I suppose. Or weak. Or tired. Whatever you want to brand me with is fine. You’ve had your own thing now an entire ocean away anyhow. I’m sure I’ve be relegated to a blip on your radar at this point. And it’s fine. Distance is a bitch.

So is life.

-K

Windchimes again

Perhaps this is what the warning was for.

Everything going sideways.

I think it was from Audrey.  I’m so sorry Audrey.  I’m sorry for everything that happened to you, for everything you went through.

I understand why you went away.

Sometimes I think about joining you.

Sometimes I think we should all join you.

But I know that’s wrong and bad.
It’s just…everything She did…everything She didn’t.
I don’t understand how it means nothing to Kit and Midori and Serefina.  We lost Audrey over everything She did.  Sweet, soft, gentle Audrey.  Audrey who only ever loved with every bit of herself as deeply as she could.
And all it did was hurt her.  And destroy her.

Then there was Cordelia.  Our darling. Our light. Our life. Two against the world.
…I didn’t know my heart could break this much.  And now the anniversary is approaching, rearing it’s ugly head and reminding us of all the ways we aren’t good enough.

Rika has a theory that Audrey and I are twinned (Shadow Dragon talks about that concept occasionally).  I guess I can see that.  It would explain why I only have felt like half of a whole since she’s been gone.

Maybe if I keep talking to her…if I don’t act like she is gone…maybe Audrey will come back.  She could come back and fix everything…

Damaged Road to Recovery

This road we’re on is full of potholes.  It is littered with broken glass, sharp turns, deep shadows, dips, and rough patches.

It’s usually night on this road, but if we’re lucky it may be a misty or foggy twilight.  Sometimes there is a carriage or cart supplied by a loved one to help us along this road.  But mostly we have to walk it with our own two feet.

Our feet are sometimes sprained or broken and we have to stop and take a long rest.

But we push forward.  Reaching the end of this road makes all the difference in the world.