| Home |
[18 Jul 2008|12:08am] |
There was something poetic in the symmetry.
There was a vampire in the graveyard when she went to visit Aidan.
She still cried when she hit Illinois.
And her gas ran out when she hit the Verona, NJ city limits.
Those were the highlights she told her father when she got home. Home.
The word meant something different now, as an ex-resident of Searchlight, Nevada.
Not an ex-resident, really. She always had a home there, with Emmy... with Aidan.
Destiny sat on the porch and remembered.
Emmy and Destiny met the day before she left. Destiny tried to explain why she had to leave, but no words came.
Emmy just nodded. There were tears, promises of open doors and letters and e-mails.
As Emmy pulled her into an embrace, Destiny's heart broke a little. Part of her wanted to drop her bags and stay there.
Destiny knew, however, if she ever wanted to come back, she always could. Home is the place where, if you go there, they have to take you in.
Emmy was home to her.
Visiting Aidan was harder, because there was a finality to it that rivaled the day they buried him.
She had gripped the marble of his tombstone, whispering sweet nothings into the ground on bended knee.
She hated leaving him in the dry ground, but Destiny knew that the Aidan she loved wasn't in the ground, he was in the sky, the air, her heart.
He would be going with her everywhere. His spirit would always be there. They couldn't take away her memories.
Destiny pushed the porch swing with her foot and held the cross that dangled over her heart. Aidan would always be home with her.
The only thing that bothered her was that she couldn't find Rhiannon, but she knew that someday, they'd cross paths. They always found each other, and likely always would.
Rhiannon, in her own way, was home too. She was her rock, the voice in her head that would be there if she did something stupid or needed strength.
She left a lot of people. William, Aidan, Emmy... many people she loved and lost.
She left Searchlight, sadder, but wiser. Older, but in a new place mentally.
Destiny could always go back - and she probably would.
As she passed the "Leaving Searchlight" sign, she took a deep breath over the lump in her throat.
She was not the same and would never be the same.
She had been changed, for good.
It was time for her to continue to grow and keep finding the pieces of herself.
And the best way was to go back to where everything began and start over.
When you're born, your soul explodes.
Pieces of you fly into people, into places.
You spend your entire life trying to find those pieces.
And when you find them, you are complete.
To be continued...
|
|
| Sequeway |
[18 Jul 2008|01:05am] |
Limerick, Ireland
August 2012
Much to Darian's satisfaction, the debate about relocation settled on Ireland. It was a city of only 90,000, with more limited opportunities than Vegas held, but he was not so bound to business anymore. The Dealmaker's main points of concern were that it was European and not Scotland. There was only so much he could take. After all, a small but intelligently silent part of him still reeled from knowing he relocated for a woman. Where Bethany was concerned, he had accepted that he would behave out-of-character, for however long their affair lasted.
Yes, though. That was internal acknowledge. When questioned, Darian identified the city's finer points (among which he did not include its reputation as the largest supplier of contact lenses in the world).
Over the centuries, Darian had become a connoisseur of culture and an aficionado of accents. Before long, he spoke in as good as native tongue, quite willing to shed the American flatness for something with more class. And whichever small pieces of Bethany's confidence hadn't been restored in her last year in Las Vegas returned when she went closer to home. While always seeming to be at ease in Las Vegas, Darian's eyes detected differences in her. Perhaps it was an absence of snobbery; There was less occasion for it there.
Darian had gone willingly, and for a while, it was enough. By summer of 2013, however, the winds of his restlessness began to shift.
|
|
| The first tumble of the weed |
[18 Jul 2008|05:06am] |
Tyler sat in full lotus position, incense burning on a nearby table. His mind had wandered away from the discipline of his mediation, and instead he simply let his mind wander over the past few years’ events.
For the duration of his time in Vegas, there had been times when Ty felt as though he was being handed random shapes, and told that they were pieces to a puzzle. And how the hell you fit a triangle, a square, a circle, and a star shaped piece of life together to make anything of sense had been beyond him for some time now.
But looking at it today, he saw how everything worked together. The pieces did fit, they did make sense, and now that they were all together the outline was looking fairly decent. He didn’t have all the answers, not now, and probably never would. But what Tyler did have was a restored sense of purpose. And a restored sense of love.
He silent thoughts were interrupted, however, by loud music coming from the other room. The sound of Star cursing loudly over blasting ABBA tunes was more then enough to pique Ty’s interest. He stood to his feet, extinguished the incense, and meandered down the hallway to see what he crazy girlfriend was up to now.
|
|