oh, I'll build you a kingdom in that house on the hill

(Note from the Editrix: Because these are mounting, sadly, I'm going to start generally indicating when they were written, as opposed to published. This one is from the 21st of July.)



dreams, that's where I have to go
to see your beautiful face anymore
I stare at a picture of you and listen to the radio

Wow. They have big rats in Athetis.

And it's not that bad. I have access. Access is permitted. Access was never refused, and access was actively encouraged, odd as that sounds to my brain on occasion. And that's not a small thing; it could easily have been denied. Not that I would have preferred that, but it could have been stripped from me, too, and it wasn't.

Small threads of connection that remain, but they are there.



hope, hope there's a conversation
we both admit we had it good
but until then it's alienation, I know
that much is understood
and I realize

I wonder if this is based on an actual SL map. I don't recognize any other continent names besides Zindra.

The funny thing, here, is...people say all the time that they can't survive things. That's not my issue. This won't kill me; I can be this miserable and survive. The year it took my father to die, that didn't kill me either. It was painful; it was confusing, it was destabilizing and unforgiving, it never let up for twelve solid months...And, at times, I felt excruciatingly raw, trying to process it all. But it didn't kill me.

I've survived worse. I've survived worse more than once.



if you ask me how I'm doing
I would say I'm doing just fine
I would lie and say that you're not on my mind

And yeah, I don't do that. It would never occur to me. I have answered 'fine' when I'm anything but; that's common, that's everyday. 'Fine' is the universal social response, meaning anything from 'I'm having a great day' to 'my job sucks' to 'I'm burying my grandfather tomorrow'. While it's not the truth in many situations, it's not quite considered an outright--or, at least, bald-faced--lie, either. And it has been said, and truthfully so, that very few people expect an honest, open answer to 'How are you?'.

But if I can't stop thinking of someone? I have never, not once, denied that. Even if, at times, it would have been massively in my best interests to pretend disaffection.

A certain incubus comes to mind.



but I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
and finally I'm forced to face the truth,
no matter what I say I'm not over you, not over you

And sure, in a lot of ways, how I'm dealing with this? It's entirely within my control. I could do the work necessary to sever all ties. I could just stop talking. I could block and mute. It would take...gods, a lot, possibly up to and including deific intervention--which I've only ever asked for one other ex--but...it could be done. I could remove enough care, enough affection, enough yearning, to make things easier.

I don't want to do that. But I could. It's on the list of options.



damn, damn girl, you do it well
and I thought you were innocent
took this heart and put it through hell
but still, you're magnificent

I went over the chat logs tonight, finally. Took a bit to read through all of them, and while there were things I said in error--and while the initial announcement of the two-week cut-off period did come as shocking and unexpected as I remembered--it all came down to reactions. And mostly, reactions about restrictions.

Namely, mine. And how that other thought some of them were "bad".

We spent hours discussing that point and others, but we kept circling back. Because...if some of my restrictions were bad, were all of them considered bad? If some of them were bad, were they just bad because they limited him, or did the thinking go, they were bad because they existed at all?

I think...obviously, there was more to it, obviously, but..that was a lynchpin. That someone could become involved with me and not acknowledge the large part of my life that centers on my dominant. Because whether or not he's directly involved, he is always there. He's on the profile for reasons beyond 'Hey I know this guy'. My restrictions are as much a part of me at this point as bone and sinew, blood and skin. And this may come as a shock to some, but while that dominant is responsible for enforcing my restrictions, informing me as to why they exist, and making sure I can comply without conflict, they were not all chosen by him. Some were suggested, and some few were even chosen, by me.



I, I'm a boomerang, doesn't matter how you throw me
I turn around and I'm back in the game
even better than the old me
but I'm not even close without you

To be fair, I've never been 'better' after a loss. I've been less affected, but I've never bounced back to calm seas and following winds, from storms and lashing spray. There is always a change. I am always impacted. A little more hesitation, a little more pain in the eyes, a few more scars on the heart. Some additional melancholy lubricating the gears. Nothing that stops me, just enough to slightly alter the machine.



and if I had the chance to renew
you know there isn't a thing I wouldn't do
I could get back on the right track
but only if you'd be convinced
so until then...

The train's track has never been easy, and yes, it's spiraled off the rails before, and more than once. It's a good allusion to the process, but in all honesty, I had it before SL. My years on the grid have just reinforced it, given it physical weight and appearance, but...it's been a part of the backbrain for a long, long time.

"The course of true love never did run smooth", Shakespeare said, but I doubt he had fissionable materials, radiation, open wounds and stiletto-length shards of glass in mind. I don't think any love of his decided cigarette burns were a fun way to spend an evening. I don't think any love of his tried to have him killed, for instance, or tried to do it themselves. I don't think any love of his cut off contact so completely that he started to worry they'd actually died. (And no, I'm not talking about the SL fellow, there, but someone long before him. Though the irony that that's happened twice is palpable.)

On the other hand, this is Shakespeare; maybe he did. He could have had a train wreck all his own.



and finally I'm forced to face the truth,
no matter what I say, I'm not over you
not over you

And I wouldn't be me if I was, as I've said before. Given the choice, always given the choice, I would rather feel pain than feel nothing. I would rather be hurt by the world, if it's my only option, over sailing through it unaffected, leaving only a bare impression of movement and a whispered breath of air. Pain hurts, loss hurts, there is no aspect of love lost, dying, constrained or deceased that is simple, or easy. But as long as it hurts, I'm still alive. As long as it hurts I'm still moving. As long as it hurts the warning system is still active, telling me there are things to fix, to repair, to understand, to reprogram.

The animal in pain seeks not to be in pain, sure. Do I want this pain? Of course not. It doesn't make me happy, and, as far as it goes, it doesn't make the others involved in this happy. No one is rejoicing that things played out this way.

But we are here now. And while here is still bleak, I'm still breathing. I'm still moving. The train may be going slightly feral, which I'm sure is the current fuel, but I can cope with that. I'm rebuilding, refortifying, patching the few cracks in the stonework. I've started healing, and every day that passes I'm a little stronger, I'm a little more stable, I can breathe on my own better. These, also, are not small things. And they're worth the effort to regain them. This may run the risk of being accused of egotism, but I am worth the effort to regain them.

Because my ultimate truth is--this does not kill me. Not even close. I'm not dead yet, and it's far past time to figure out what's next.

(Pictures taken at Route 6 in Athetis, Brewed Awakening, the TF Mainstore in Rivera, Nova Theatre, The Grey Gull, and Ash Falls. Lyrics from Gavin DeGraw's Not Over You.)