The Iron Rose

Insularity is something that's becoming far too easy to fall into for us these days. With Tia closing herself off more, to most people, and Kailin just being Kailin. Jared's pretty outgoing, but I think he's a bit guarded for his own reasons. Understandably. There are still a few people keeping us from this, and I'm glad of that.

I got another email the other day asking why we bother Running. Honestly, I'm the most to blame for that. Among other reasons, like not wanting to lie down and die. I have to consider how long we're in one location before people start to notice that things aren't quite... right. How long will it take before something chips through their self-absorption or whatever else is holding their attention and they start to pay attention to the weird little group staying it room-number whatever-the-heck? Start to notice the graffiti that got painted over the other day, the figures skulking in every shadow, the chalk-scratchings on the sidewalk?

Some people compare being Stalked to being like a transmittable disease. I don't necessarily consider it that way, but I have to wonder. If that's true, we've been traveling, off and on, for a good while now. What is our footprint of spread? How many people have been drawn into things that might not have, if we hadn't been in a certain place at a certain time? How many weights should be on my conscience, if only I knew of them?

Is it so surprising then, that I choose to generally not make extra money by selling paintings? Especially some of them... I've done in excess of a hundred paintings that have not been posted, and never will be posted, because they have been disposed of. Egocentric? Maybe, but there are some things I'd prefer not to take chances on. Things people weren't meant to see. So, as I've said, I get rid of them. For my own mental well-being.

What little there is left of it, anyway.

We're still making do with things. Jared's still in the doghouse a bit. Is that selfish of me? Maybe a little. I've forgiven him, but it's been almost six years since I saw him last. Since we saw him last. We've all changed in that time. Maybe we don't have the time to dance around things, but getting to know eachother again is proving interesting. He actually got Tia to smile the other day.

That's a rare sight, these days. She rarely smiles at most people recently, at least in any real way. Tia's always had anger issues, even when we were teenagers. That's part of why there was such a negative reaction from us when someone told her in the comments to someone telling her to let that become a weapon.

To let something like anger control you is just like anything else that you allow to cloud judgement. Lashing out like a wounded, trapped animal is not acceptable, no matter how likely a reaction it is at times these days. We are not animals. And to allow our situation to attempt to form us into anything of the sort... I don't know. I wish it were so simple.

It's hard to see the light try to fade from people as you struggle to stoke that fire. Not just our little group, but those beyond it. To not merely survive, but to live.

Sleep is for the weak and tired

I never knew where he went or how his afternoons were spent.
He said he had to slay a dragon, kill a giant, fix a wagon.
Wage a war, feed the world, and stamp out sin.
In the daytime he was never in.

Thank you for you input, Jared. Utterly.

Honestly, I almost find it a little amusing how each of us deals with our not wanting to sleep much. I nap. Little cat-naps every so often. Too long and you start to dream too much. Tia, she just keeps going until she utterly crashes. Usually a few days before having to sleep for most of a day, too exhausted to do anything else. Kailin? I actually haven't seen zer sleep much in general. At least not soundly. Jared... I haven't picked up on his patterns yet. Erratic behavior.

Not exactly healthy. We try to get enough rest, though. Enough so that if something happens, we can at least make an attempt at dealing with it.

It's been weird, getting used to having Jared around again. The last time I saw him was on that day in January, six years ago. When he made me promise to look after Marie. By that point, I already thought of her like the little sister I'd never have. And yes, maybe it's cruel of me to blame him for that. Wrong to blame him for being caught up in all of this. For getting me caught up in this.

It's not fair to him.

I know that. He was seventeen at the time. Most people don't exactly have the very best decision-making skills as a teenager. Especially Jared.

We met through Doctor Chavez. Well, at his office. And as I've said, we made friends. Amusingly, yes, there almost was something between us, but well. I was fourteen at the time when we first met. It wasn't long after certain incidents... We would have been bad for each other, and we knew it. So we decided to be friends.

Honestly, we didn't see much of each other in school. Jared... He was the class clown, to fall back on high school archetypes. I was me. Until Tia moved into town, he was one of the few friends I had at school, even if he was more the popular type. Unlike Tia, however, his tactics for helping me usually involved distracting whoever was messing with me at the time. Unless things got too bad.

Unfortunately, we didn't have too many classes together.

The thing that bothers me the most is that his parents  told us that he committed suicide a few days after I spoke with him that day in January. That he'd shot himself. The funeral was closed-casket. But obviously... Obviously he's still alive and kicking.

Why would they cover that up? Heck, how would they cover that up?

I feel sure he knows at least a bit, but I'm not sure if we'll ever know all the details, with his parents and Marie now dead. my fault

As a closing note, with a little help, we've found someone for Tia to see. The kid's got a few connections, apparently. I'm painting still. Also, that girl's back. As are other... oddness. Guess things are getting back to "normal".

Too quiet, well not really

Haven't posted in a little bit, mostly because we're still getting used to each other. It's sort of odd having a third person around again. Things are pretty much the same in a lot of ways, though. Lack of sleep, stress, talking about the most random things late into the night as a distraction, working on the computers for hours (at least on my and Tia's parts). I've been painting a bit again. Most of them aren't all that good. It's mostly an outlet.

Painting's something I started back in high school. Initially as a therapy sort of thing. Doctor Chavez suggested it, and I ended up really loving it as something to do and to keep myself occupied. Painting is something that's just easy to Focus on. So I keep painting and turning out things. Is is weird that I really miss Doctor Chavez still? I mean, I don't know... The guy's been my therapist off and on since I was fourteen, so I guess it makes a little sense that I'd gotten attached.

Anyway, we've been doing a bit of moving about over the last week. Kailin's actually healing up a a reasonable rate, which I'm glad of. Those burns were some of the worst I've seen in a while. There are other, older scars, but that's zer story to tell, not mine.

Also, is it weird to be thinking up baby names for a kid that's not even mine? Just kind of wondering.

And yeah, we're not getting complacent. Every time things look good is when you should be on watch the most. I think we've learned that by now.

If you're going through hell, just keep moving

 We've got a kid sleeping in out hotel bathtub. Well, not a kid, a teenager. Okay, let me backtrack a little bit.

We ended up heading southeast a bit, I think? Okay, I'm honestly so bad with directions. But that's beside the point. We were out shopping today, getting some groceries, essentials, mostly. Eating fast food can only go so far, especially with my making myself sick with stress half the time and Tia well, needing actual food. So we got food.

All nice and you know, not that strange. We were actually having a bit of fun, chatting, all that nice stuff. Things have been... nice between Tia and I recently. Yeah, nice. Hee. Umn, no creepy notes have been showing up, no anything. I've been reading through Marie's notes again, but that's stuff for another time. Anyway.

We were driving back to the hotel, and suddenly about halfway there, there's this... grayness. I mean, I feel sure the colors weren't actually bleeding away and fleeing from that... wrongness. From what I can tell, Tia didn't really see it that way. It's weird, how these things happen, it's like this warping of the fabric of things, the fleeing of normalcy. But yeah, that's when we heard it.

We followed the sounds, and there's this kid, curled up, praying, looking like shit at the end of the street. Things are eerily quiet other than that, empty. Hate it when things get like that. It's just wrong. Well, a lot of this is wrong, but back on the subject. Zie's just a-praying. And there He is, standing over the kid, all this rippling around Him, looking like a squid orgy, the sound of...tearing, and then gone. Like He was never there, the colors are back, the sounds after a few minutes. Well, other than the fact that we now have a really screwed-over teen on our hands.

We snagged zer and bolted for the car after checking for broken bones. It hurt thoguh, I could tell that much, considering the outright scream when we first touched zer. Surprisingly, there were none, just these... burns on the chest and back, fairly extensive. They're all black and gross, but I'm tending to them as best I can now that we're back at the hotel. I wanted to go to the hospital, but zie was vociferous about negating that idea. Zie calmed down quick enough, but there's this tenseness there, which is understandable, really. Two strange chicks pop out of nowhere. Got the kid to give me a name, at least. Kailin. That and the fact that I was apparently to use gender-neutral terms once zie noticed I was writing a bit.

Skinny, skinny kid, about fifteen or sixteen, if I had to guess, long black hair, darkish skin, big brown eyes. Obviously been on a good few miles of hard road. We got Kailin cleaned up and I've been tending to zer a bit. Talking a little, abut me and Tia... Talking to Tia.

She was slightly reluctant at first to pull Kailin into our little fold despite being concerned, but I'm not going to abandon zer, not like this, not in this state. So... She's trusting my judgement on this, though she says it's sort of probationary (I'm paraphrasing, but she cussed and I'm not in the mood to do that.)

We decided since it's a one-bed hotel room, once the tub was scrubbed out, that would most likely be better than the floor. I dragged my pillows out of the truck and into the room, and called for some extra blankets, and we padded the tub up into a pallet. So there we are at the moment. It's time to do what I can, at least.

One Foot in Front of the Other

I have two points to make. Or address. Or whatever. One is more of a story. The second thing just... needs to be said. For formalities sake.

First thing's first, let's address visiting California. Under circumstances that are just... not pleasant enough to warrant a happy week.

Blake's mom... is probably the sweetest little woman ever. Standing at not over 4'11", shaped like a pear, mouse-brown hair that stands on end no matter the weather or how she attempts to put it all together... she's just incapable of putting it together anyway but frizzy.

Utterly adorable with a personality to match.


And three baby brothers. All idolizing him. All with matching sets of locks like their mothers. Blaise was always the odd-blond-out. But he loved them so very deeply.


I had to... give them some sort of closure. Blake hadn't called in weeks. And hardly a word before Christmas. I knew. I knew he wasn't all right. His family knew he wasn't all right. What little communication was so... garbled... so twisted. I don't know what they thought.


So I told them... a lie. A bald-faced lie.


I told them we had an argument on the road and there were tears and we had parted ways for a night. I had thought it was just a night, that we just needed some separation, but he didn't come back in the morning. I told the lie until I started to believe it. I started to believe I had no idea what had happened to him from there. I started to believe that we had looked for him for weeks. I believed it entirely by the time I was in tears and... I had to tell them that I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Because I won't. It's impossible.


I told them I didn't know he would react so badly, and I didn't know what he was doing, and if he would ever come home. Even though I know he never will. He can't. And it's my fault. I tried to console the boys. I hugged when it was appropriate. I cried when it was inappropriate.


I played a good part. They had us in for dinner. We were emotional and apologetic. The topic finally changed though. Something insignificant. We left before dark and were out of state again before dawn. I'm going to keep this far and away from them.


And now I've no idea where we'll end up. Maybe the midwest. I like the snow even if Lissie claims it's nothing but mischief.


---


Part two, the oddly hard part of this post...


I'm pregnant. I'm keeping my baby. And I'm going to fight for my little. Don't be mistaken. These are not the circumstances I want to be in for raising a child. I'd rather not be running for dear life with the father who I once loved dead.


But I'm keeping the baby anyway.


I think I can raise a child right. And so I'm going to let myself try.

Dreams, Dreaming, Dreamt

First, no, there hasn't been a test yet. Not enough time to be sure of accuracy, if the timing's what I'm pretty sure it is. Lovely.

Yeah, I've been dreaming again, and painting and drawing. Ya'll don't get to see those right now, though. My camera broke, and honestly, there are some things that don't bear seeing. Believe me, these don't.

Dreaming is always strange, yeah? Shadows on he horizon, becoming more distinct. But then, there's always been shadows on the horizon, they're just getting closer. Shadows have faces. Maybe it was easier when I couldn't identify the faces. Maybe it was easier when I didn't dream of people I've met and people I've never met dying or not dying. It's layered. Mutable. Things are changeable.

Sitting in a room as a teenager, talking to Doctor Sanchez. There's someone else there. I can't... I can't see. That's the weird part, because I always see, and I always remember. But this time, all I can tell is there's another person. It's like there's a gap in the dream, a place where the colors don't flow. 

There are always colors, especially in dreams. It's weird, I know. Colors and imagey sorts of things, feelings. It's usually not a big thing, not worth mentioning, I guess it's a form of synesthesia, though it's been getting worse over the last few months. Especially when I'm on pain meds, it's not just distracting little things in the corner of my eye. That's part of why I've been trying to wean myself off of meds earlier than I "should" every time I get hurt. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe I'm nutso. Well... That last part was a given.

Shadows. A teenager, hurt.Have to help. Can't... Can't tell a lot of things, but I hate this kind of dream. Where you're standing there, frozen, and you have to watch someone hurt or die. Can't change it... But you have to. Can't even tell if it's a boy or a girl. Dark hair, dark eyes. Two people in one shell. Fire... Ugh. I have to... Things can be changed.

Right.

A Note

Shaun left on Monday. We were sad to see him go, but I get that he feels he needs the space. Email me or call any time, man. We're moving on again.

Tia's still pretty quiet, but despite Sheppy-boy's post, she's a little better. Smiling a little easier.

Also:
Not that anyone's going to read this or even gives a care what I have to say, but since it's apparently International Jump on Elaine Logan's Case Week (Or so)
(Paraphrased from an email I sent her in response to all of this)
1.Elaine has never been anything but kind to me. That's got to count for something, because I'm not the most social sort. a
2. She does try to have at least some people's best interest in mind (though rarely fully her own) which is more than I can say for many of the people I've read about in these situations, much less met.
3. Yes, she has her rough edges, and can be, as some might say, a "bitch" to outsiders, to the people she does let in, she can be one of the most caring, loving, loyal (many might say stupidly so) people I have ever met.
4. She is trying to atone for her past. That is one of the of the hugest things to me. She wants to make things better, and she acts on it rather than sitting around with her thumb up hrr butt. She knows that she will never find personal retribution, and so she does what you can to fight for what you can grasp, what she can do to help others.
5.Yes, she screwed up and made bad decisions. She screwed up big time, she has hurt others, many others, but she is trying to fight past that. Maybe people will eventually try to forgive her or convince her that they do, but she's not going to forgive herself. She's beating herself up over things plenty without any help.

I could also go into the subject of bullies who kick people when they're down, but honestly, Gargoyle's not worth the time or energy.

None of us are perfect, so what right have we to judge, anyway?

Happy New Year

They say to do the thing on New Years that you want to do for the rest of the year.  I refuse to regret this.

 We can do no great things; only small things with great love... Let's make this year one worth living, and hold onto the kind of courage that is not all-encompassing, but which gets you along from minute to minute.

Words, Words, Words...

Words are fucking hard sometimes.

I broke him. I feel like... maybe, maybe, maybe there was something I could have done to stop this from happening. Ages and ages and eras and eras back. Responsible. I was cold and cruel and mean and I couldn't have just given him a little more. Just a little more maybe. Maybe then he'd be okay. Well and alive and okay.

I can dream. Dreams are silly though.

There's this ache... it comes up between the moments where Lissie is holding me together and Shaun plays some comfort song to keep me from hiding myself entirely. It's guilt. I know the thing for what it is. And it is guilt. It's nauseating. It never goes away. And I think I deserve it.

Between the moments where Lis has her hand on mine to remind me that I am not alone and I am no longer bound and the moments where Shaun gives his sage-words of true comfort and sympathy... I retreat. Back to that moment. Could I have changed it? If I had been less petrified and thrown and betrayed and hurt... if I could've gotten a handle on my emotions, could all this damn ache have been avoided? I'm normally better than that. I keep my composure. I hate weapons.

Seems terribly selfish. My primary motiive. Make my own aching stop. I've never been to great at giving. Or getting. Where does that even put me on the social scale of givers and getters? Puts me in the 'I don't like people, not really at all, leave me alone because it's just easier that way' category. Where does that even fit into the spectrum? It doesn't. It's an outlier.

Ah yes. There I am. An outlier. A product of my own making. A societal freak of nature. Unwilling to receive or give trust.

I am fighting my own nature. Moment by moment I am fighting it. I want to go back, years and years back when it was so, so, so, so terribly much easier. Back, way back... to right about 8 years old. When I could trust and it was easy. When mom would tell me "Dad will be home in 136 more days," and I believed her. I believed her because she was my mother and I trusted her and trust was easy and not impossible. I believed her when she told me her Tiana was the sweetest, most beautiful, kind and caring little girl she had ever met. I believed her because she was my mother and these things were still true.

I was kind.
I was sweet.
I was caring.
Beauty was inside and out.

I have learned bad habits as I've grown up. I've grown out of childhood niavety, but I wish I hadn't. I wish I was still beautifully unmarred by the coldness of the world and the reality of the situation and the cynicism. So much cynicism. I wish that I could be childlike in my worldview, but adult enough to know the value of that worldview. Unfortunately I am only the latter. I drift in and out. Between hoping and wishing there's still that ache. And I know the world is not the place my childlike perception would have had it.

I am not 8 years old and I am not blessed with a kind, caring, trusting heart. And I am here. He's not. Won't be. Ever.

I'd never killed anyone before. And I trusted him. Myself. Us. So well.

My nature says retreat further Tia. Reatreat and shut them all off. Just keep them out. It will be safer for them. Safer for you. Because you don't like people and what could they possibly like about you? People are changeable, malleable, untrustworthy things Tia: reject them all.

I can't do that though. That's not fair. Not to Lissie nor Shaun nor the comforts they provide me. They're not people I tell my nature. I don't have to like or trust people, but these two are not people. They are worthy of my trust. They are not people, my cruel nature, they are my friends. I won't retreat. Not from them. They deserve better, so I will give them better.

I warned you never trust those elves!

Very much to his disliking,
Santa spends all night hitch-hiking.
With a sign that reads, "Ho ho slow down,"
Santa Claus is thumbing to town.

Every car just drove right past him,
And sped right out of sight.
Santa never got to ask them
To drive around the world in just one night.

It's weird that even here, all the way across the country from the place I've called home for years, with a sense of foreboding always present, in a hotel surrounded by strangers, even here it's starting to feel like Christmas. I've been doing some baking to keep myself occupied and distracted, and it's been... nice. At least here.

Sure, as I've said, there's always that presence, that need to look over your shoulder because there's something there. But you can't let that cripple you. I've been sick as a dog over the last few days, which really is not fun with still-healing ribs. I'm dealing with it and Tia's been looking after me, though.

 It's funny, these moments where things honestly feel almost normal. You can't revel in those moments for long, of course. Complacency is an enemy just as much as anything tangible is.  But you treasure these moments. You treasure them, and when things are dark, you look back on them. You look back on them and say: "Oh, that's why. That's why I'm persevering."

It's been oh gosh, six or so years since the last time Tia and I spent Christmas together. It's funny, being around someone who you don't even really have to talk to make things work. It's just comfortable. We know eachother and it just meshes sometimes. There's been christmas songs playing off and on in the hotel room we're staying in. Not complacency, just making the most of the moments we have.

I've been fretting over people, of course. I always do. It seems to be my normal mode of being. Worrying over people I've both met, and people I've never even gotten the nerve to speak to. That's always going to be an issue, I think. No matter what, I'm just... shy and feel like I can offer nothing of value to people's situations.

Then there's the dreams. They're more of the same, really. Nothing that most people wouldn't expect, given the situation, I guess. They've just gotten worse due to the meds, maybe. While I really dislike the meds I'm on, they do make matters easier, and it gives Tia one less thing to worry about.

Anyway, I have to figure out how to do Chritmas shopping for people that I have no idea of their locations or if my own location will be steady. Mrf.

The Battle with the Heart isn't Easily Won

Falling out of love is hard business. Especially when you're - you know - the hard battle girl. Yeah. It's not something that's easy to talk about, but I think I need to. Even if I'm the one that did the breaking it off bit. There's still all those little bits of feeling that can't be left to linger.


You have to deal with them one at a time, slowly. Pay them all the same amount of attention - they deserve that much at least. They all have the same heavy weight of meaning. The candle you burned on your anniversary, the silver spoon you passed back and forth when you ate ice cream from that ornate glass bowl his mother gave you, the songs you used to sing together on long drives, the favorite movie quotes you used to pass back and forth at the drop of a hat - just because you could. You have to accept that these things still exist - but they don't mean what they did before. You have to put the spoon aside and give the songs new meaning and maybe throw the candle away.


There's more than just those physical things though. There's still those little things that confused strangers most, the not so obvious things. Like the way you would dance with him on the subways to no music but the music in your head. And that was good enough at the time. Or there's that little subtle glance that tells him he needs to kiss you right then, or the poke at his side that's a reminder for him to sit up straight. And that was good enough at the time. The way you knew what the other would get at a restaurant before they even verbalized it, and that was more than good enough.


After you've been with someone for so long... you start to build your life around them. You know them better than you know yourself - so it would seem sometimes. You feel the way they feel and know instantly when something's off and you start to have a rhythm. Normal sex on Mondays and Fridays, Wednesdays are kinky experiment night. Saturdays and Sundays you visit friends and family, and Tuesdays and Thursdays are your maybe if you're not too tired tonight nights. Of course, the pattern extends beyond bedroom schedule, it goes so far as Tuesdays you wake up early to make breakfast special, on Fridays you go out with him someplace you've never been before - maybe it's a museum or maybe it's just a different part of town or maybe it's just a tree you've never paid attention to in the park you frequent.


It's all... built for you. You don't actively realize when you do it. But it's you make this life for you and he and you both fall into it so comfortably that nothing could possibly be bad with it. You get comfortable. I got comfortable. Comfortable is a scary place to be - don't let happy people and romantic comedies fool you. Comfortable is the worst place you can be in a relationship sometimes.


It was good for us - the unexpected move. It took us out of pattern and comfort. Don't let Lissie tell you otherwise. Don't let Blake fool you with his bitterness. It was something that changed our habits just enough to keep us from being that perfect couple. No one wants to be that perfect couple, no matter how idealized it is. It gave me hope.


...having it end was something I would not have seen coming. No matter how prepared I claimed to be.


Was I prepared? Not at all. It's too late for that now. Now it's over. Now I'm at the point where I have to stop rambling and accept that not all is well and as it was. I have to accept that Wednesday will no longer involve discovering something new about leather and skin, Saturday is no longer about having lunch with his mom or mine, and dances on the subway will never happen with him again.


Falling out of love isn't all about ending it with him. It's about... it's about discovering yourself without him again. It's answering the question "what are you unattached?" It's knowing you'll survive.

Happiness

Happiness. It seems like such an intangible thing these days. With all the deaths and pains and everything else, one must wonder where such a concept would come from right now, and why.

It is simple. There are no "happy ever afters". None. I mean look at it, stepsisters slicing off toes to fit into glass slippers and little girls cutting their way out of wolves' bellies. Happily ever after doesn't come cheap, that's for sure, even if it does exist.

Now, I hear you asking, since when did Lis become such a pessimist? I'm not one. I am a realist. Despite everything, despite my seeming naivete, I am a realist. Despite my opening myself to people and letting myself get hurt, and seeming to trust overmuch, I am a realist. Despite wanting to take away the pain of the world at times, I am a realist. I take risks as they are needed and despite the words of others, expect nothing in the way of positive or negative return.

No, the reason I say this is that "happy ever after" is a static concept. Happiness is not static. It is something that you have to strive for every day of your life. Through darkness and pain and hopelessness and even, at times, loss. Things can get so very dark, but you keep fighting, because that's all you have left.

The events of the last month or so are what led me to think about this, I guess. I mean, it's probably stupid and not very well thought-out, but I kind of wanted to write it down for everyone to see. Even if only to point and laugh at it.

We hit Washington state last night, and reached our destination. We're set up for the moment at a hotel, and it's actually been pretty interesting. It's so cold up here! Oh my gosh! How do people live up here for years? Call me a snowbird and a wimp. Well, it's not snowing here yet, at least. I'm kind of glad of that. Snow is shenanigans.

Looking Back on Things.

The tears I feel today
I'll wait to shed tomorrow.
Though I'll not sleep this night
Nor find surcease from sorrow.
My eyes must keep their sight;
I dare not be tear-blinded.
I must be free to talk
Not choked with grief, clear-minded.
My mouth cannot betray
The anguish that I know.
Yes, I'll keep my tears till later:
But my grief will never go.
-Anne McCaffrey, Dragonsinger

On top of everything else, one of my favorite authors died this past week. It's funny how someone you've never met can have such an impact on your life, can draw you out of depression and the like. I'll always remember finding one of her books in middle school, and being lost n a world of dragons and firelizards. Books and painting have always been my escape from things. These days, books moreso, for a few reasons, though I still paint and draw. I haven't had anything I've felt worth posting recently in that area, sorry.

Back on subject. If a writer of fiction who I have never met died, and it has impacted me so, how much more does it impact me to have multiple people that I consider friends, no matter for how short a time they were, die? Exponentially.

I'm fine, though. Blake's been a bit... on edge recently, after the incident, and that's understandable. I apologized for the way I was acting, though in my opinion he rather overstated just how... unstable I was at the moment. I don't hold it against him, though. We're all stressed right now, and Tia's worn thin trying to take care of both of us. I really should do what I can to make things easier.

I've never really liked pain meds, to be honest. It's not for the reasons Tia was saying or to make myself some kind of martyr or the like. P'sh... Me, a martyr. That would be a litle silly. They just... make my head feel funny. No matter what kind I take. It's a bit annoying. That and the drowsiness is not my friend at the moment, but at least I don't really dream as much when I'm on pain meds. Small blessings.

I'm sorry for anyone I made worry and anyone I've inconvenienced by my getting hurt. Believe me, I'm not having fun right now, because of it.

...Anyway, I thought that little poem at the start of this was fitting right now. Way too fitting.

We're probably going to be moving on again really soon.

Silence is the Loudest Noise

Everything is going to hell. We all know that. We've seen the blogs. Elaine's. Shaun's. Lucas and Joel's. Others. Some of those people, you know, don't even have lives anymore. Which, to say the least, is heavy. It's a lot to take in since I got back. And since Lissie got back. I was never as close to any of these people as she was... but she's very close to them.

So, you see, she's having a worse time of it than I am. I... understand. I feel bad, but... she's... Lissie's being Lissie. And panicking. And Tia's having the temper her. And make her take her meds.

"Quit trying to wallow in your pain. Just quit it. Everyone's lives are shit right now Lissie. Fine. I know... I know it hurts, but you need to survive. You need to do that for those people. And not taking your pain meds when you're in pain? Is not fucking surviving." And then Lissie mumbles excuses and then Tia insists further and Lissie makes faces.

She took them eventually.

I have to hear these interactions between this woman I love and her irrational, panicked best friend and I worry about the stress levels of these people and it's all wrong. And it's fucking loud. It's quiet now, in the literal sense of the word, but it's so fucking loud and I'm so tired and I can't...

I want to protect, I want to be there for her, but it's hard when she puts herself in this place where she sacrifices her own semblance of sanity for someone else. But that's what I love about her, you know? She's just that sort of person. She'll do that for certain people, take herself to the brink just to keep them from it.

Certain people.

I need more rest. I'm not all right yet. I'm trying. But I'm still vomiting and cold and tired and raw. It's hard to sleep at all. I'd like a little peace.

Sometimes I wonder if we'd never... but then again no. That's Tia. And I would've left her if I didn't love her for being her long ago. I'm sticking it out. I'm... We're. We're going to be just fine, isn't that right?

Where the Heart is

Home is where the heart is right? Guess I'm home again. I'm really, really, very tired. And feel like shit. Vomit again. Sleeping all the time.

Need time to recover.

Don't particularly feel like talking about what happened in the time between Lissie and Tia getting out and me getting left behind.

Not forgotten. Just out of reach.

Shepherd wandered away for a bit... managed to get free, wandered a bit myself. Guess Tia and Lissie had been looking for me, so they found me. And now I'm back.
Still feeling out of it.

Shaun, I was keeping it vague in the hopes that we'd be out of reach for a day, not for a week. I had been hoping he wouldn't find us. I was hoping for a good day. So much for hopes eh?

Currently feeling a little out of touch. I'll maybe give another update when I'm feeling up to it. I don't think we should be staying here longer as a result of my health.

We've got to get going. For the girls' sake.

For Tia's sake...

Lovely

Been puking all night, off and on. A lot of it's blood from my nose.  Wonderful. As I read more of what we've missed in the last week, I'm making myself sick again. Can't help anyone. Shep was right about that. I'm just a useless, pointless, worthless brat of a woman, who only makes matters worse. This is not self-pity. This is a statement of fact.Tia's not going to like seeing that when she wakes up. Oopsie.

We're staying in the truck tonight, and I can't really complain. At least that means We can get away from the smell of sick of need be. Things... I hate being on pain meds. I keep seeing things on the edge of my eyes. And unlike the lovely descriptions said by some, it's not Him. Or not just. Have to ignore it. Focus.

Blake's not dead. This is not me in denial. This is not me saying "if I say it enough times, maybe I'll believe it." He's not dead. But I can't. I can't let this be like Marie. I can't. I've never claimed to be able to help anyone, only claimed a want to do so. I know it's probably a pointless endeavor.

I refuse to stop caring, though. No matter what is tossed at me or us right now, I refuse.

twisting and turning and falling and burning. have to make things right. my fault.

Back

And I'm not feeling overly creative about titles right now. Mostly, I'm just tired.

I got to come back to Hope yesterday, and yes I was 'delivered' by the proper time. I have no idea why. I don't really remember all of what happened... And I've no idea why I was even held either. I really... there's not much to say about it.

There's this bruising on my back and Tia can't figure out what caused it, and we've discovered about 4 broken ribs which have only been aggravated by the vomiting I've been doing. My wrists are messed up. Tia thinks they're going to scar.

I remember zip ties being involved. And flashes of things. A concrete room somewhere, searing heat, the stench of sweat, a flash of clean-cut brown hair and a pair of glasses, a smooth voice that said things I don't remember. The things I recall are all disjointed. "You care - so silly - broken - won't you eat - damn fool - miss your Sparrow - Fine." Pain is the most prevalent memory. That's pretty much all I have. I don't know where I was or what he looked like or anything useful of the sort.

Maybe I shut down? Maybe that's why I got 'boring' for the Shepherd? I can't really tell you, to be honest.

What I do know is I'm back with Tia. And I'm able to sleep in a bed and eat properly - and that's even better when the food decides to actually stay down. I couldn't be more grateful. I'm going to take it easy for a while. Back to sleep with me.

Arrival

Well, we got to Hope okay today, around two or three in the afternoon. It was nice to finally meet Elaine in person, with as much as we've been talking. Of course, I got wrangled into not helping with any of the bags, but I'm honestly trying to behave well enough. We also met Lucas and Josh in passing, and they seem really nice. If I can get up the nerve to talk to them. I'll have to ask them their favorite colors if I do. I'm in a crocheting mood... Well, to be honest, I'm just in a generally restless mood. I'm usually a better injured person than this. Usually.

Although, it's the saddest, funniest thing. We nearly forgot that today is Tia's birthday! Blake, of course remembered. Don't you just want to pinch his cheeks? But seriously, man. Good on you. It's been hectic recently. Anyway, we ended up getting set up in our rooms. (It's kind of nice to have a room of my own again) A litte while later, Tia, Blake, Elaine and I took over the kitchen to make a delicious cake, no lie.

There was much silliness to be had, and to be quite honest, despite the things going on in my head still and the stitches, this is the best I've felt in weeks. I can only hope for the best right now.

Lis is Back

Everyone cheer happy cheers! She woke up yesterday, late evening, and we had a nice, long conversation to do with... everything that went on Friday. And what we're going to do in the future about it. I think it would be more befitting for Lissie to tell you all of those details when she's good and well with them, if ever she wants to. It's up to her, and I wouldn't ask her to do anything she didn't want to.


We also got to have a nice little room-service dinner and extend our stay a little while longer. I don't particularly want to, but we do need to let Lis heal properly, and those are precious stitches I did. She won't be popping a single one if I've anything to say about it.


In the meanwhile, since we're sitting ducks until further notice, I think it's time for a little trip down memory lane. I mentioned my father in the last blog post. And I think this deserves some mention. My father was a soldier. Daddy was a Sergeant, and as far as titles go, it's not the highest, but it's a good, respectable position.  Our family got a lot of respect on the bases, but we were also moved around a lot. Dad got a lot of transfers, and he was on his way up. We stayed in the same place the longest... only when he was overseas. One of those times was Enterprise, Alabama. And that's where I met Lissie, the sweetheart that she is. We can go deeper into the memories of Fort Rucker another time.


I was little, and my dad was home more often, well, we weren't exactly the typical family when it came to bonding activities. My father started teaching me mixed martial arts around eight. We spent hours every day practicing proper form and kicks and punches. My eight-year-old self didn't really understand that he was teaching me ways to defend myself, that he never wanted me to be helpless, I just knew it was father-daughter time and that was what was important. It wasn't all the time, but it felt wonderful to be able to join my dad for morning work-outs.


Yes, you know what that means? I'm a morning person. I liked to take runs before the sun's even risen. Yeah. I'm crazy. Unfortunately things like that are... less practical now. Oh well, practicality's got priority right now.


He taught me emergency first-aid. And what it means to be in a war. Not the pretty glamorous things they tell you in the media. But what it means to be fighting another man and when it comes down to it, it's either him or you and there's no getting around that. My dad taught me a lot about practicality and war and love. And I appreciated him when I had him around. I didn't have him very often.


I miss him, a lot. Blake never got to meet him. The last assignment... didn't go over so well. Sometimes people  aren't so lucky. I miss him. I don't feel like I saw him enough. I have to wonder how my mother must feel when she thinks about him.


Anyway, enough nostalgia. We'll be heading for a safe place in the next few days. We need some down time. And Elaine's been kind enough to offer us some with her.

I did actually use a vehicle to my advantage against some hoodie-clad zombie-esque mofos in a parking lot who were getting a little too personal with the girls. I'd do it again too.

Nothing was stolen. But losses in groceries were taken. Who the fuck jumps people at a 2 pm grocery run on a Friday afternoon? Who does that shit? People with no sense of criminal sense, that's who. I'm mostly perturbed by the fact that they didn't have the sense to wait until after dark than anything else.

I suppose that comes from city living; people get jumped all the time, it happens. That doesn't bug me. That they did it in the middle of the day? Totally irksome.


Also, driving 100 mph for about 10 hours straight will give you cramps, but get you far, far away.

We had some blue honda on the same stretch of highway for the first 6 hours of driving behind us, or occassionally in front of us. Before I started this madhouse roadtrip, I would've thought nothing of it. After this crazy road trip? I'm suspicious. We were going 100+, who the fuck keeps with that speed? So I took a random exit, drove like mad through some city's streets and lost them near the hotel heavy area, and then navigated back to the highway. I haven't seen the car since. I did have good sense enough to have Tia take down it's plates. They were CA plates.

I'm not sure if the sign of home is comforting or not.