I wish I had his instinct, perhaps then it would not catch me so by surprise. I want to touch it, to feel it, marvel at it...not just because I know the connection, though that helps. I want to not because it is beautiful or mystical, rare of valuable, but because it was given, and the act of giving itself is always the greater gift.

I have sat with it upon my lap for so long..neither with enough daring to lay my fingertips to the surface, or with enough will to lay it to one side...So I just stare, drinking in every texture. It calls to me, in lieu of that which I cannot see, as captivating as that which I cannot touch. I watch..just watch as words echo around my conscious, pulling at me, tugging...a war of thoughts and emotions...a battle of things I cannot begin to understand even though I search for some... thing....GAH, I think too much.

I am not a woman who values material worth, I never have been. I care little for platunum, less or trinkets, my treasures can be counted upon the fingers of one hand, and thought they amount to little in monetary terms...to me they bear untold wealth. Each one an eon of emotion, a well of memories.

He is a man of material things, as is his wont, though he knows where and how true wealth lies. He admires his trinkets and treasures, to have that hcih others do not..or more to the point, once had but now do not. When I ...borrowed...his book and read his thoughts, I will not lie..my smile dropped a little, I thought he meant me for just another treasure, if I may be so bold as to count myself as such. A dry chuckle coursed through me, what did I expect?..but maybe, just maybe...thats not it at all.

What draws me also pushes me, what gives also takes. What I long for I also resist. I am at war, at war with my body, at war with my senses, my mind my soul and my breath..dreams consume me, twist and fade into reality only to steal awy to dream again.

Once again I look upon the demon we name confusion, once again I stare in defiance, I will not be pushed and pulled by it's whim..nay. Confusion is but a glimpse in the passage of time, it will rage it's torrent throughout my life until such a time as the storm passes..and will leave no answers in it's stead.

Confusion is a thief in the night