Strange How Things Change
I’ve not attempted to write anything here for literal years, Songbook, fool that I am I found that my inspiration came and went and returned again tenfold living through all that I have in recent years. It bears repeating that as I look through the last few pages I offered up to the powers that be for perusal I do not even recognize myself. I know logically I am the one who’s written the words but I see a Bard who’s confidence was as fragile as it proved to be, who’s trust was placed so often in the hands of those who would suit the ideals I made of men and maidens but not who they actaully were. I miss the casual friends, the ones that I simply played music for, those who I taught around the Fountain, the tastes of new lips against my own and the songs that awoke in my heart when they took time to spend with me... What I’d write here today, is the truth of things I’ve learned since I last penned my thoughts on these archives... Chief among them, I am not cut out to love only one person, but that does not mean I did not have a half of me I was seeking... missing. I look at my old self tucked between the lines and hopes I scribbled longingly in the blank spaces, I was looking for something, needing someone, or anyone to hear that I was singing out into the void and just wishing I would hear someone singing back... I thought about the reason I grew roses, not just for mother, not just for their beauty and resilience despite their apparent delicacy, but because once when I was a boy with a Lute I’d rebuilt from discarded pieces and made into Hypernia, I was given a gift... one that I never truly could repay. My dark mirror with bloodied hands and sallow features, hungry, hurting, but still in awe of Music. Of a Tiny voice that was not just my own but theirs as well. A Tiny Voice that was for those things that were over looked and tucked between the sentences and ramblings residing in the things I didn’t say... and should have said. He heard it... and he Answered I just didn’t know how close he was. To those I loved in all these pages, there was no point then or now that I did not love you, I felt these things, I felt them like the most meaningful fuel to my kindled heart I had ever known, you taught me that there was more, and for that I will be ever grateful even if you despise me now... even if you’ve forgotten me now... But now as I write and feel music in my fingertips, song within my soul, I know it is because my compositions are not ones I can name, or water down into their sheet or score, what I have in my life now... my Children, My mate, and all those who have given us the chance to touch their lives as they’ve touched ours... You are all a part of the music that’s come back to me and now fills my life with laughter, joy, and sorrow, and shared pain, but with an unabashed eternal love that is ever changing as the world itself. So when I return to these pages, I hope that the me from the future sees that I have known what love is, truly, unabashedly, and eternally what it is... and it’s that I will always find more within my Kintsugi Heart. -Dedicated to my Midnight, and the muses we find room for.











