08-25-2024, 04:29 PM
yes i know that love is like ghosts,
few have seen it but everybody talks —
few have seen it but everybody talks —
Her mind has been quieter than usual.
As much as she was hesitant to admit it, being in the company of others hushed the voices in her head to a background hum. When her eyes were focused on another's face it was easier to ignore the constant glimpses of ghosts that always haunted the corners of her vision, but it also made their presence all the more obvious once she is alone again. But that brief moment of solace — it was addicting.
She isn’t sure if she liked that change in her; becoming the kind of girl that craved someone else. The kind that came into the meadow and immediately began to scan the strangers that mingled, trying to find anyone that might distract her.
And almost immediately she felt guilty for even thinking that; that everyone out here, to her, was only a distraction. That she isn’t sure if she even cares about them, about getting to know or befriend them. She wonders if there will ever be a moment that she is not in a constant battle with her mind — if it’s not the voices then it’s the nearly crippling shyness, and if it’s not the shyness then it’s this, this idea that she is somehow secretly malicious without meaning to be.
She is caught in the crossfire of these thoughts when she sees him, a brief flash of movement, and instinctively she turns to look at him. His limp is the first thing she notices, and she feels a twinge of worry in her chest — but also relief at the realization that he is not a ghost. Despite her earlier musings that it was cruel to use others for her own benefit she approaches him anyway, her steps still cautious as always, and her voice perhaps a bit too soft, as if she is giving him the option to not hear her. “Are you okay? You’re limping.”
As much as she was hesitant to admit it, being in the company of others hushed the voices in her head to a background hum. When her eyes were focused on another's face it was easier to ignore the constant glimpses of ghosts that always haunted the corners of her vision, but it also made their presence all the more obvious once she is alone again. But that brief moment of solace — it was addicting.
She isn’t sure if she liked that change in her; becoming the kind of girl that craved someone else. The kind that came into the meadow and immediately began to scan the strangers that mingled, trying to find anyone that might distract her.
And almost immediately she felt guilty for even thinking that; that everyone out here, to her, was only a distraction. That she isn’t sure if she even cares about them, about getting to know or befriend them. She wonders if there will ever be a moment that she is not in a constant battle with her mind — if it’s not the voices then it’s the nearly crippling shyness, and if it’s not the shyness then it’s this, this idea that she is somehow secretly malicious without meaning to be.
She is caught in the crossfire of these thoughts when she sees him, a brief flash of movement, and instinctively she turns to look at him. His limp is the first thing she notices, and she feels a twinge of worry in her chest — but also relief at the realization that he is not a ghost. Despite her earlier musings that it was cruel to use others for her own benefit she approaches him anyway, her steps still cautious as always, and her voice perhaps a bit too soft, as if she is giving him the option to not hear her. “Are you okay? You’re limping.”
Narya
— spirits follow everywhere i go,
they sing all day and they haunt me in the night
they sing all day and they haunt me in the night
@
Ruhr