#howlinghearts

[bonusdragons]

March 10, 2024:

White Secondary, Bogsneak, Fern.

Orlina of HowlingHearts' clan!

[anubitebaby]

Words: The Escape, The Gift, and The Curse

Recently I have been doing some reflecting, being support for an outside tragedy and having to deal with a constant battle with the mundane that I absolutely hate. And I do mean hate. Though, in my recent reflection, I have amazed myself in what I have been dealing with, fighting for, and somehow barely managing to find life again because I have honestly been so dead inside that people are noticing, and I mean complete strangers. I have been fighting for a lot, and most of it I can’t even begin to speak of. I have been doing it because of others that need me, but in all of this, I realized that I have lost my voice. That I have lost someone that is dear to me and I don’t know what to do or feel about it. It is a strange thing to know you and another are connected by means that you can’t explain. What makes it worse is the fact that you are never sure how to find them, no matter how you seek them, how you pray that they are doing the same without distraction and they will soon be walking your path with you and keeping you from anymore harm than you have already suffered. 

In my journey of reflection I have found that I have lost sight of it. That soul that I know is bound to me as I am to him. I realized that I have been always wanted to be more than the farm girl that I have been raised to be, stuck in a small town that is dying. Have I always come back here? Yes. I can heal when I am here, but now I see that in the same place that I heal I am hindered. That I am taken from my path. Last night made this very clear. 

I had a scare last night, that if not for my bestie, I may not have pulled through. The situation was one that usually I will feel his presence, that he will calm me, soothe me, help me to pull through. This time I could not. I called, searched, and no answer. It was like a wall. Ever since I opened up, I wrote on here about it, hoping maybe he would see it somehow and start to put pieces together. By admitting the truth that I based Taurus Kota off of this particular person I am wondering if I was even right to do so. Was I correct in opening up about this to complete strangers? I don’t know that answer, I am hoping that it is “Yes”. That someone knows of someone that is perhaps having the same experience, someone that feels the same. That he is searching me out as much as I am him. 

Since I was young, I knew that I was going to have to make a beacon. That I was going to have to do more than the average person to get anywhere. I have the talent, according to many and according to those in my personal life, I am wasting my time doing the mundane, though everyone needs a check, regardless of how small (and mine from my day job is shit, but at least is it something!). Words were the way for me to speak. Though they are my means of escape and relaxation and relief overall, they are not able to keep me warm. To make me feel safe, for even the same words can be used against you. I fear that this has happened. That there has been a wall placed between us by an outside force. I fear that I can’t break it, and I feel like my light is going to soon be out. That I will not be able to even have a chance at him coming to me and genuinely telling me: “I need to talk to you, I didn’t think it was real either, but it seems that we both exist. Who knew?” 

Now, I know you are going to ask, “How will you know? You’ve written about this.”

Yes, I have. However, there are things that I have enclosed in the situations of my writing that are from experiences that are not fiction and some that are fiction and just a means to help move the story along. Only he will know what is real and what is not. I suppose I have to continue to be patient. I have to try and keep my flame bright. I have to keep my wits. I have to fight to keep him on my heart and mind. To know that perhaps he does hear me, that he feels me. That he is waiting still. Even if it is for a moment of acknowledging that we do exist. That this isn’t just something we both have found to be strange tricks that loneliness or fear have created. I have to know that he is doing the same as me. Making himself the beacon for me to find. I had hoped that my little scene “Dream Walking” would help to brighten my fire, and it seems that someone keeps trying to hide us from the other even more now. 

I may be stuck in silence, but I can tell you that I am using my words the only way that I know how to. I have to know that I will not be using all the time I wasted on nothing. That I am getting closer. I fell away over past years. I didn’t pass the tests that came, I admit that. But now I am starting to feel like I am getting back to where I am supposed to be. That all of this abuse and pain will soon cease and I will be able to have him there shielding me and helping me to heal from my years of wounds, to kiss my scars and tell me that I am beautiful even with them. To have him sing to me, to dance with me. To know I am the only one for him as he is for me. To be complete. 

But as I said, words are a curse. When desperation hits, you make mistakes, and I did. I have had my words stolen, I have had attacks through them. I have had others control me though them, and even a few failed once they realized they made a very grave mistake attempting to cross me. 

Many of you know that I was seeing someone right after my book was published. I was ripped apart due to it. I was desperate to find him, my Winter, my Taurus. Desperate to start my journey that I knew was about to start. Though that all came crashing around me. I was just a means to an end, as I always have been. I was never seen as I first thought. They knew I was already broken. That I was seeking something more. That I needed something more than just the words. I fell for it. I didn’t trust my instincts. I let desperation take me over and I failed to listen to the words. I failed to listen to the tone. I didn’t want to know the truth. I didn’t want to believe that a curse could win. But I did and it defeated me. The only comfort I had was to feel him around me every once in a while when I was unable to see it, or I did and I had failed him. He would make it known that he hadn’t given up yet. That I had to keep fighting just as much as he was. 

I am fighting with it more and more, I was sure that I could pick up the pieces, that I would not be torn apart on the battlefield, and I find that I have been fighting to the point of shattering my soul. I hide my pain with a smile and positive energy and optimism because I don’t know what else to do. Right now I am at my breaking point. I am sick of having to pick myself up, even when I know I am losing and I am standing in a puddle of my own blood and saying “I can take it. I can do this on my own. I can do this. I can make it. I can survive. I can escape with the words. I can live in the moments I recall. I can do it alone. I can fake a smile, I have done it long enough, I know this part, I know the character, I know how to act so that I am safe for the moment. I can’t improvise with this script. I know what I am going into, I have done it before. When I can I will be safe, even for a moment, in the embrace of a written moment of a distant memory, an unspoken whisper, a sense of hope, I can then heal.” 

I find how wrong that I am. I need him physically here with me. I need to know I can hear his voice with just a call. I need to know I can run to him and not be judged, punished, and tormented even further. That I will see him in my driveway to kidnap me for even an hour or even to sit on the porch and have a drink, to know that I have someone to turn to when I feel like I am drowning. My best friend even said to me, “I understand what you need, and it is something that even your closest friends can’t do for you. I can’t even do this for you. You need him. You need this protector, your soulmate here with you. I am disappointed in him, but I am optimistic that he will soon be here.”

I have been holding back so much. So much that I am not sure what is up or down. But I pray that he is listening, that he is doing something to let me know he is searching, that I am not going to have to wait until he is too late and that he can help me break this curse so that I have my escape and gift back so that I can tell him everything without it coming out wrong or even held back by fears over years of beatings and scars.