Long ago in this land, and for the first time in my life, I was in the position to give my heart, body, and soul to someone. Through my own choice. And as frightened as I was, I did. And all there is of me became his, until he wishes to hand it back to me.

I love Pallas. I always have and I'll love him forever. He is, and always will be, my one essential person.

Someone once asked me "Is it so hard to believe that someone can truly love you?"

I replied "Yes."

And the answer is still yes. And every turn I am amazed by just how much he loves me.

I feel lost in confusion and uncertainty. A leaf blowing around scattered on the wind. A bottle floating aimlessly in the sea without purpose. The message inside unread, meaningless, forgotten. The bitterness and pain are strong like the sweeping current that will eventually shatter the bottle upon cold rocks, forever loosing the words inside - rendering them even more meaningless. As if they never existed at all. Swept away on a current that will take me to the places I fear. Places I never again wanted to go. Places I trusted that I was safe and protected from.

The stars are falling again. All the beautiful heartfelt things just fade away too fast. And I've never property learned how to protect my emotions and prevent matters of life and love from causing such pain aside from withdrawing. How hard is it to remember the promises made to the ones held dearest? Though I do understand forgetting stuff. Happens to me, to all of us at times. I wish I could harden my heart. I'm not sure how it hasn't yet to some extent. Maybe I'm just too sensitive. Or stubborn.

Love. What does love even mean to people anymore? I see is how people lie and cheat, for many reasons, mainly selfish, self fulfilling reasons. And I don't claim to understand what's going on in their complicated hearts when I can't always understand the one beautiful heart I deeply love - the heart my own heart is bound.

Maybe that bump to my head affected me deeper then I realize because nothing makes much sense.

In Dreams We Die

I woke earlier this turn with my heat pounding so hard I was sure it may burst through my chest. And the anxiety I felt was so intense that I almost fainted when I stood to walk down to the outside for some fresh, cool air. Somewhere within the borderline between being asleep and awake last turn I had a dream, vision, hallucination of being killed. I know I wasn't fully awake or fully asleep. I felt myself twitching a bit; like when I dream of falling and twitch awake right before hitting the ground. I was being chased by darkness tendrils and had escaped into the hollow. Though I didn't escape at all, that's where the darkness wanted me to run; it was a trap, of course it was a trap. And then a huge spiraling twisted tendril rose from the water it had darkened and sprung after me where it wrapped itself many times around my fragile throat and raised me up into the air by the neck. It started to squeeze tight - choking and shaking me to the point of unconsciousness and what I assumed was eventual death. In this instance it was nearly identically to how I was killed there once before. But then things changed, and instead of snapping my neck into a crazy angle and dragging my broken lifeless body back into the water I was still alive when it dropped me.

I fell hard to the ground from the height it dropped me and just laid there holding my throat in my hands and trying to breathe, but I could not breathe at all. I could only watch through half open, blurry and burning eyes as many smaller tendrils rose from the waters and transformed into the shapes of black wolves. They danced in the air around me, howling in a unified way that sounded nearly magical as if they were singing me a song. Then they touched the ground and surrounded me, their bodies curling like fire and smoke - lips pulled back in ferocious snarls. I remember thinking and feeling a sort of awe - mesmerized somewhat by these spectral wolves before they slowly circled in closer, much like sharks circle their prey. And then all at once they leapt onto me, without any hesitation - tearing into my flesh as they ripped and shredded my body to pieces. And the worst part of it all is that I was totally alone. Alone through it all, as it went on and on and on. There were no other voices calling to me, no other trying to save me. There was just nothing but the ghostly howls of the black wolves tearing me apart and eating me as I died. It seemed to go on and on forever, yet I wasn't frightened or scared in the dream. I felt that way outside the dream as I was dreaming it, but in the dream I felt sad and confused. Let down and betrayed.

It is though that our dreams are associated with our unconscious and to often dream of such nightmares, the same sort of twisted dream could indicate there is something we are lacking - something that persists in the unconscious mind that our conscious can not settle alone. So then what does death mean? In life it is the end; The Everdeath. Something that we could all experience at anytime, though we take the life monuments for total granted, assuming they will always be there to reform us so we may go along our way like nothing happened. I felt this way long ago, but no longer. I know there is a strong chance of The Everdeath now. So death in dreams must symbolize an end to something - to a chapter in life, the end to apart of ourself. The end of a cherished friendship or beloved relationship. A way of thinking or seeing.

There are infinite possabilities as it could be an end of anything. And as we are all different only we ourselves can really truly know what it could all represent symbolically. I know for me what these things are. Nightmares and terrors are absolutely nothing new to me. And not only that but I know, despite my strength and steel, I am a very sensitive soul and havebeen affected on a conscious and subconscious level by many things through my life. Many related to pain, despair, torment and death. It makes sense that I continue to live them out in my dreams and visions.

I suppose it is quite possible that I did wake up before I actually died in the dream, but from the state (and all the pieces) I was in just before I woke, I really don't think so. How I did not disturb the sleeping rogue who's arms I laid within as I tossed and murmured in that fitful place between wake and sleep, I do not know but I am grateful his sleep was seemingly much more peaceful.

I sit at the bridge, writing in these pages and watching the rushing water. A small part of me wants to jump in and let it take me so the nightmares will cease and I can rest. A big part of me wants to keep dreaming when I do find sleep; good or bad. But that little part of me can be so damn persistent.

He really is such an honorable man. Been so good to me, and with showing emotions. We have had so much fun together and many sweet moments. I'm so happy again. Yet sometimes he frightens me; not in the violent sense. I'm scared of his heart, the look in his eyes and of the wonderful way it all makes me feel. Im scared of just how much I love the rogue, with such a strongly renewed intensity. As silly as it may sound it really does scare me a little. I can't go through it again. But we promised never to let things go bad that way again. Not if we can do anything to save it. We have been together for so very long I guess it's only normal we would face the troubles we faced that tested our bond.

I keep wondering what it will be like if we actually do stay together and grow really old together. I have made so many mistakes. Done things, lived ways that I regret. And many of them no fault of my own. Still I carry the guilt of it all. Things are so great that in the back of my mind I'm waiting for it to fall apart. Like a dummy instead of completely enjoying it all I have to let a sliver of doubt stick around. Don't get me wrong, as I said I'm happier then I have been in a long time, obviously, but I guess I just wouldn't be me if I didn't allow that little cloud of disbelief to hover over me.

Sometimes I really wish I could go back and live parts of my life over again. All the bad and painful parts. But then how would I ever learn from experiences if I could just redo them whenever I'm unhappy? What would anything good I have mean if there was no struggle to get there?

Seeing him sleeping here with the light of 'rifter shining through the skylights....he looks exactly like he did when we first met. As if he hasn't aged a turn. I'm enduringly enamored.

Life back home was so hopeless. And there was a time back then that I grew to absolutely despise the color yellow, as it was Fathers favorite. The color of gold, deceit and betrayal. and And when I was alone in the tower writing and painting I never ever made anything yellow. Not only because of Him but yellow to me symbolized hope in a hopeless situation. Cheerfulness in a cheerless world. Yellow was the sunlight I rarely saw or felt on my fair skin. Yellow was the fluffy little chicks I missed chasing around the barns. Yellow was the warmth I missed in my cold, dark world.

But all colors fade with time just like many of the memories do. Harsh as they are they will still soften and yellow with time before fading away and tucking themselves deep into the mind. Not to be forgotten, but to make room for new memories. I'll never understand why the one who was supposed to protect us wound up being the one to hurt us the most. Yellow is the sickness that had consumed Him.

I find myself thinking of Tam whenever my mind goes to that dark place. He did all he could to help me into the life I have now. At first I had no idea who I was with the strange new life in the strange new land of Valorn, but little by little I came out of my shell and was eventually able to give away some of my hidden trust to a few people. And it was real trust, though scared I was to let it go, was something I hadn't given in so long. I met many interesting new people. Some seemed to enjoy my company and wanted to help me. Some were sneaky and tricked me into things that I wish now I could have seen for what they really were. I was more niaeve back then. And still others seemed quite taken with me for reasons that eluded me. Reasons at the time I couldn't fathom or understand. If only they knew, I always thought. They wouldn't want to be close to me. They would run off screaming.

Then I met him. He already knew me. He was friendly, charming and polite. Not to mention very handsome. Defiant of conforming and yet principled. And when he knew, he didn't run screaming. He Stayed. He comforted me. He protected me and loved me and taught me so many things about life. I knew that he already loved me when I gave him my heart and long before that. We were a good match for sure but even so, I couldn't have bonded with a man who didn't have a light behind his eyes. And that very light glitters and glints within his beautiful brown eyes. I knew it was him, always him who was meant for me. I had no clue in the ways of life let alone love but it felt natural. I wonder if he could tell -- can still tell how my heart skips a bit, pauses within my chest, each time that he looks at me. The way all women want to be looked at. He can still make me melt. He has the power to devastate me like no other could. Even with all That I have faced and survived.

Why we ever let things go and change between us the way they did, I don't know. We both made mistakes and have openly spoken of those mistakes. But in the end we are right together. Nothing else comes close. And we can not fight change of that nature because we are a part of it and it grows with us, not against us. We are right together. And we will go through all the changes life throws at us together. As it always should have been. I told him I felt that things between us are better then they've ever been. It took us time to get to that point but I hope it stays that way though the heavens may fall.

As for yellow. I have long loved the color yellow. Because yellow became beautiful. Yellow is my intuition and how I know to trust it. Yellow is the fond memories I have of a lost loved friend and the color of Fens eyes. Yellow means that there is hope and every time I look into the rogues brown eyes and see the flecks of yellow that dance within, or I look up to the light of the sunrifter I know things will be okay. That things are good and happy. That they are as they should be. Of course my favorite color is green, but Father stopped owning yellow. Yellow was free to just be mellow and yellow.


You hold my heart within your hands,
The one who always understands.
The one who sees and feels and hears
For you I've waited all these years.

For you I'd wait while the stars fall,
Until my life is drained of all.
I know you'll come and set me free
And we can be who we are meant to be.