May 14, 2010 - 8:23pm — Seed
"My wife." That was the phrase I thought. It repeats quietly weighing its expectations up against my own mind. It feels pressing like a lead weight. Like love, it halts my breath. And I thought it.
I had met up with Nevilly -- she was miniaturized today. It suited her. She looked so delicate, like a butterfly made of glass with wings as thin as the horizon. She greeted me, and she and (I assume) a friend of hers and I sat down. He sadly took the best place by her side, and I went to sit next to her in the tree she was under. As the third party got up and said his goodbyes, I thought, "Well, at least now I can sit by my wife without being in a tree to do it." And then it occured to me what words had just run through my head. I didn't say "my lover," or "my sweetheart," "my little snowblossom," or "my dear leman." I went through all the words I could have said in my head: paramour, mate, girlfriend...No, I had thought wife.
Should I be thinking 'wife'? It's not an institution not common in the forest...but I think it does still have meaning. I love Nevilly, I always will now... but this is...scary. It's huge. It means things I'm not sure I know how define -- and this, more than love, may change the basic shape of my life.
And if I'm wrong...Would I even know it? I could destroy what we have by putting too much pressure on it, or her feelings could die (I sometimes don't know why she loves someone like me in the first place) -- and there would be no honorable way out that wouldn't be so exposed, so clean, so ragged like a great red wound. I'd never have the courage for it again. It may be better to keep things simple. The list goes on forever...
The scales teeter uneasily, even as we talk about old nightmares and deep memories. Even as we lie together and fall asleep wrapped around one another...On one side, all these objections, my uncertainty, the weakness of my heart, the abuses of time. On the other...is her smile. Her bright blue eyes, looking up at me and making me feel brighter and purer than I am. And the feeling I have just being near her, intoxicated by her as if she were the wine of Dionysus, granting strength, clarity, and madness all at once, sweet ectasy and the taste of grapes and sunlight... Maybe I won't trouble her with it until they balance.
Later That Day
Later that day, I woke up and saw Saosin and another stag sparring in the flowers. I considered going to greet other deer, but there was something lovely in it: something powerful and elegant. It reminded me in some ways of last fall's rut, and how Virgil seemed then...but more so. That battle, full not of hate but of passion, the elegance of two figures moving as if in a coreographed dance...but more so. Taken to make art, I think. It was breathtaking to watch. I composed a small poem on the spot, because I felt a power in it. So, after the other stag stepped down, I took an attempt. I was laughably bad at it, at first: I'm not so coordinated as to find keeping the flowers from my antlers easy. But I think, towards the end, I started to get the hang of it a little. I kept getting distracted by the smell, the heady rush of swift movement and bright flowers. Eventually, I had to stop, laughing from the odd mix of joy and self-deprecation at what a silly figure I cut by comparison. I don't think I'm well-suited to it, but I may try some more on occaison. But watching it may well become a past-time of mine, if I can arrange it so. I didn't give much thought to...that question, which came as a little relief. When we were done, Saosin and the other deer and I sat at the edge of the flowers, joined later by Amary and others.
Saosin began to walk away, and I for a moment followed him, but at the last minute decided I was too tired for a walk at the time. I bid him goodnight and went to sleep -- my reprieve may well be temporary, for the question still waits for me tonight.
-whistles- it's so good
I love the metaphors you
@Animasoul: Thank you very
@Pega: Thanks, I think that they're pretty good. Seed seems to want to draw a lot on Greek Mythology for his references, but that last one's particularly good. I also like the butterfly one.
Edit: and complete now. I'll be posting Seed's flower-sparring poem in a bit.
Your writings are so pretty.
Thnaks ^^ I try.