Ayshela

Alishon’s Goodbye Alishon sat at her favorite table writing a letter, or at least, trying to. By now the noise from the other tables barely registered in her mind, having become familiar background sounds. With a wry smile she thought "Perhaps i should call these 'Letters from the coffee shop', except that it would seem gross personification. i've never seen a coffee shop write letters." One way or another, here she was again. Her favorite table, her current notebook, purple pen, cup of chai - everything she needed to capture her thoughts and distill them to their essence of meaning. So why, this time, was it not working? "Well, what is it that i want to say? What do i want him to understand?" Thinking about it for a moment, she wondered "Are those, in fact, two different questions?" Concluding that they probably are separate things, she put pen to paper and began to write. ~~~~~ My dearest friend, anchor for my wayward heart and soul, i'm sorry. Through all the years and all the tears, i've tried. Goddess knows, i've tried. And so have you. Late nights and early mornings, when dark of night meets hollow soul, you have been there. When the strength of failure rides the tide of terror to the towering cliffs of despair, you are there to hold my hand and talk me back down. She stops writing for a moment, hearing a whisper in the back of her head which asks: What do you want of me? Who shall i be? How shall i shape myself? What would you see? As the whisper falls silent again, for the moment, Alishon begins to write again. The hours you've spent seem numberless, as do the ways of your support. You've held me while i slept, dried my tears and chased my fears. You've scaled the walls of my defenses until you discovered the terrors that drive my nightmares. Amazingly, you've NEVER held me to blame for what was done to me or for my means of survival. i know you don't like it. i appreciate your attempts to understand. Slice my skin and shape my soul, cut a hole to make me whole. As much as i appreciate your attempts to understand, so do i value your refusal to condemn. While the rest of the world sees me as evil, or a bad influence, unstable and inconsistent, you've tried to understand the forces behind those reactions and never condemned me for trying, and failing, to cope. You've never condemned my failure, full stop. i've tried, and failed, at so many things in the time you've known me: marriage, parenting, the job world, even volunteering scares me senseless! i've tried, and failed, at making myself into what i should be. i haven't even managed to figure out what that should be. And yet you're there, picking me up and brushing me off after yet another miserable failure - which you refuse to see as such. Trace the panic, laced with pain. Run the gauntlet yet again. i wish, oh how i wish, that i could find some way to be other than i am. There is something in me, something dark, evil, twisted. Something which takes my every attempt to do something good, something supportive, something helpful, and turns it into something vile and destructive despite my best efforts and intentions. The best that i can do is damage control. The best that i can do is try to minimize the damage done by my best efforts to help. Long black sleeves can hide a multitude of sins. My friend, i hope you understand this, if nothing else. i can't do this any longer. i can no longer endure this weight of evil. i can no longer live my life on terms of damage control, and facing inevitable failure at even that. i can no longer bear the harm i do those i care most about, simply by being here, by being near them. i can no longer bear my failure to control this evil, twisted thing inside me which destroys everything i come in contact with. Goodbye, my darling, my dearest, goodbye i hope that some day, some way, you find what you're looking for. i'm sorry for all the time, attention, and energy i've drained over the years. Forgive me, if you can, for i cannot forgive myself. Goodbye, my friend, goodbye. ~~~~~ Addressing the envelope, Alishon left the coffee shop and walked to a nearby mailbox. Dropping the letter into the slot she turned with a sad half smile and said "He said i had to say goodbye. He never said how." Walking to her car she took from the hatch the bottle of pain pills and half bottle of scotch she had brought with her. Placing them in a bag on the floor of the back seat, she got in her car and drove off into the county to a rarely used dead-end road. Parking the car, she carefully placed on the dash a letter for her partner apologizing for failing him, giving him her love and setting him free. Retrieving the bag from the back seat she emptied the bottle of pills and swallowed the contents as quickly as she could. Chasing the pills with her favorite scotch, she read the letter to her kids, now safely at their dad's. Between the i'm sorry's and i love you's, apologies for failing them, for not being the mother they deserved, and the hope that no influence would be better than a bad influence, the tears Alishon had refused to shed began to fill her eyes. With blurring vision she folded and sealed the letter, kissed it and set it on the dash as well. With a sleepy sigh she leaned the seat back a bit, lay back, and closed her eyes. As a tear slid down her cheek she mumbled "i'm sorry", and slipped into sleep, reaching for the peace she'd never been allowed to find.

Thank you. That's been rolling around in my head for months, writing and rewriting itself. i'm glad you liked it.

well, maybe a "normal" person would think so.. meh, i never claimed to be normal. while i regret the depths to which you clearly understand, there is a definite relief in seeing someone else voice what are, for me, such fundamental truths of life. *hugs* if you're huggable.

and i am grateful for Peredhil, who says things MUCH better than i would have.

*sigh*

very vivid. wow.

Mine!! *sigh* oh yes.. though i understand both sides of that.. having had my work stolen, word for word, line for line, thought for thought.. that hurts. that's a very deep violation. but having had a similar thought, a similar experience to someone else, and found out much later we handled it in similar ways - the gut-wrenching pain and terror of being accused of theft for that which bore the imprints of my bloody soul - i haven't yet found words for it. *shrug* excellently written - acknowledging both what can be stolen, and what can never be taken away.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you north of the border! And thank you for reminding me to stay home today - holiday traffic through here is horrid!!

**huggles** have fun, we'll be here when you get back and will miss you while you're gone.

Wishing.. absolutely stunning.

hah! fun! i've a feeling i came in long after many of these. what a grand excuse to go prowling the forum!

"Oh, that's right, it's Cheyenne's birthday today!" With that realization, Ayshela abandoned her preparations for the Ball and hurried down to the Cabaret Room to see what preparations were necessary there. Rounding the corner, she saw down the hall.. well, it looked like Gyrfalcon, helping.. someone.. in a cloak? Peculiar. Whatever, it was clearly under control. Though from the sounds of the Cabaret Room, that might not be. Ayshela crept up to the doorway, frowning suspiciously. She peeked around the door, and as her mouth fell open in shock she moved to stand fully in the doorway, demanding "What in heaven's name happened HERE?!" Looking around at the tattered tapestries and scattered bits of cloth everywhere, some of them now frosting covered, she shook her head decidedly. "Never mind, come to think of it, i don't think i even want to know." As her gaze slowly panned about the room, Ayshela noticed a squirrel or two, here and there, slowly trying to make their way out of the room. Even more peculiar.. When she noticed the pile of squirrels on the table, immobile after their feeding frenzy, she put her hands on her hips and said "Well! We'll just see about that!" Sporting a freshly laundered, eyebrow twitching scowl, she whirled around and stalked back down to the Ballroom. She returned mere moments later, brandishing a large and very sturdy broom, the sight of which caused those squirrels who were even somewhat mobile to hasten to the door as best they could. Those who were immobile were unceremoniously dumped off the table and swept outside, along with any of their companions deemed to be moving too slowly. With the squirrels out of the way, Ayshela returned to the Cabaret Room, and with a barely audible sigh set about putting it to rights. The tapestries would have to be replaced later, but at least the rest of this mess could be cleaned up. Frosting... Whatever in the world??? In something just less than three minutes short of what seemed like forever, the room was cleaned and ready for use. Standing at the doorway making sure everything was as it should be, Ayshela murmured to herself "now, wherever am i going to find a cake???" OOC: A very happy birthday to you, Cheyenne!

mmm no disservice done, actually. There is definitely a sensual, sensous aspect to the weathered curves, tumbling water and flowing oceans of wheat. They're carved, molded and shaped by wind, weather and time, as surely as the master sculptor shapes and molds a statue glorifying the beauty of the human body. That the sculpted scene glorifies the beauty of this planetary body we inhabit makes it no less real, nor less aesthetically appealing. i was simply surprised that Regel detected that this had been written with that undercurrent of thought.

beaming smile i LIKE this. beautiful juxtaposition of cold and warmth. well done, and one can almost taste the tea.. this.. this is wonderful. very dense, very compact. nicely, nicely done. *hugs*

feel free to adjust your collar as necessary

Written after my last trip back "home", back to Eastern Washington. My best friend always hated that area and could never understand what i love so much about it. This is my attempt to explain. Coming to the Flatlands Towering columns of green and brown huddled close in suffocating ranks, marching across the hills and mountains of zero visibility. Moss-laden, guarding pungent banks of fallen needles, clinging to life-giving, stagnant dampness. Slowly, begrudgingly, they yield to clear, dry vistas. Rolling hills of dusky sage and lavender. Formed by upheavals and worn by the passage of wind and time to a gentle, sensual curve. Each hill flows down across its width to a passage of land as flat as the face of time itself, worn to a smooth finish, hammered to a seemingly featureless expanse. Roadways pass through channels chiseled from the hardened ground, exposing to the startled view of passers-by a wealth of sage and golden grasses clinging to a gentle dusting of earth. Bowing their heads and waving in the ever-present breezes, they glint with a thousand shades of gleaming gold. Breathe gently, savour the tang of grey-green sage turned lavender at dusk. Taste the gentle golden breath of endless fields of wheat. Hear the breezes whistling through your flying hair and whispering their tales of endless time. Touch the earth and touch eternity.

Ayshela lights a candle as well, and sends fond thoughts to those who've drifted away.

Ayshela comes in trailing streamers and confetti, arms full of cake boxes and bags of noisemakers. Arranging them carefully on a nearby table, she hangs the streamers carefully and leaves for a moment, coming back in with a gigantic punch bowl, which she sets about filling. Happy Birthday!

But in the meantime.. if storms are what there is.. they're okay here. and more importantly - you're okay here. *hugs*

quite the stream of consciousness there i like it.

a point.. a point.. and congrats, btw, i hadn't realized i hadn't said that yet. my bad. *hugs*

Okay, this should be fun.. What's your favorite mangled phrase or saying? Something commonly known, but twisted.. Mine: "i have a mind like a steel sieve"

it's okay, hon, i wouldn't have let you dehydrate or anything. Ayshela ruffles Hopperwolf's fur affectionately

*giggle* doesn't it, though?

thank you.. and you may even know how much your kind words mean. *hugs* Arwen - isn't is *hard* not to look away? i've never managed not to yet.