it took the death of hope to let you go

I have been painted as wrong by others before. This is not new for me. I have been painted as cold, deceitful, ruinous to hearts and reputations, uncaring, insensitive...the list goes on, I'm sure, for those I've hurt in the past.

This also is not new for me.



What may be new...what may be very new...is feeling both the villain and the victim of the piece.

That...that, I think, is very new, and I'm still unsure of how to react.

All that I know for sure is that I cannot react as I did before--I cannot pull away, hide in the hills, shut down all forms of all communication and stay, frozen and still, until there are no thoughts to think that are not dead and dust. I owe too many for too much, and I am part of the world again. I like being part of the world again. I want to stay a part of it, acting within it, learning and growing and changing with its seasons.

So I cannot pull away. But the victim in me wants to hide, and lick her wounds, and heal in privacy; the villainess in me wants to build a tower, and climb to the top, and cast lightnings to the distant ground. Neither are the reactions I want to have; neither are the reactions I need to have.

And neither are the actions I need to take.

For now, I wait and see, wait for answers, wait for prophecy to tell me where I will be next. My path is clear; that I don't want to take my first steps on it is only my hesitancy talking, my wounded heart begging to hold back. Nothing is final until it's final, and...these days, not even then.



But some actions, once taken, are irrevocable. I want to be very sure, this time, before taking them. No more takebacks. No more hesitation. It's not up to me, after all. And all I have to do is watch for ashes on the wind, or wait for the roses to bloom. No more questions, then. Just answers.

And actions.

And my Hair Fair coverage sucked this year. I think I'm done with trying to feature every single hair seen, it's just not working anymore.