An ornate and gold-edged book, of which inside are secrets even she doesn't know or understand. But tucked all through it are leaflets of paper, as if she'd rather not write in the book its self. Except on the first empty page of the book is written in exquisite, flowing penmanship her full name. ~ Lavender Cecelia Morgan.
Wednesday, 04 November 2020
I am full of sorrow this turn, thinking of times, people, and family now lost to me. I know the time can not go back and that I must look to the future, and while that brings with it fear and excitement. For now the silence is nearly deafening. Why is it I can see the good and the right path for others, and usually help in ways that make them happy. But for myself, I end up taking every wrong path. Will I ever find the happiness I sought when ran away? Or was even that truly in vain? No.. it wasn't in vain, I know that. There are so many people I have loved, and that do love here in this world that I never would have had the chance to know there. I help so many others find their way, find their path... but, when will I find my own and no longer feel so lost?
