jvar: (Heart Matters)
[personal profile] jvar
*Witch* sits in the worn section of the couch, the fibers shaping a negative impression of her ample form. Soft music keeps her company; modern ballads and soothing tones. She holds tight to the steaming mug of fragrant and comforting coffee while looking out into the winter forest. The crispness of the vision with tufts of snow in the nooks and crannies hints at the frigid temps. A soft blanket about her legs and a fire crackling in the stove provide a cozy place to just exist.

Next to the window is a beautiful broom. A gift from a lost friend. She looks about her room, seeing many items of reminding. Gifts received in better times. Such beautiful things. A hand blown glass ball streaked with transparent teal and green. tendrils of glass string down inside the globe. Heavy brackets of cast iron, with a sunburst on one, and a moon on the other, hang on either side of the large window. A bowl hung from another window with the glass etched like a clock face, with gears for adornment. A green resin hourglass with purple sand. Candles bought on an extravagant shopping trip together. An ornate oil burner in red and rust glass on a brass holder. Various crows in resin and pewter and print. Two hand crafted kaleidoscopes. An ebony merkaba. A dreidel and sacred match holder. Two Frank Lloyd Wright replica art pieces; one in glass, one in metal. Some books. A small replica of the ark of the covenant, the last of the gifts. Such beautiful things.

Hanging from the window in the next room is a large stained glass piece in a wooden frame. A reminder of darker times. In the lower corner, the beautiful glass is cracked. A result of a drunken stumble and fall. And never telling him the damage he did. These things all tell a story. *Witch* thinks about stories and how they end.

In another room is a black fur crow. Another item with a rich story. From another lost friend. Another ending.

A guitar sits in still another room. More stories and endings.

While there are moments where she wishes she could destroy them all, she never will. Each item has a story that makes her happy to remember. Even when the endings were fraught with tears and scars that linger, these stories remind her of the beauty of that moment when they were given. In an instant, the love and friendship flood back in memories. These are the reminders of why they will be missed. Far better to think of these things than what made the aching scars.

*Witch* makes the decision at last to leave everything in place, allowing herself to accept that the moments in time each piece represents aren't tainted by the endings. She lets each piece imbue the love and friendship that was felt when it was received. She allows them to represent the good of the giver and fill her home with joy.

Taking a cloth, she goes to each item and wipes off the bittersweet, then throws the rag in the fire. The fire sacrifice she's needed to make is finally complete.

Date: 2007-02-08 06:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] inlaterdays.livejournal.com
This is absolutely lovely.
(deleted comment)

Date: 2007-04-25 11:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jvar.livejournal.com
Let me explain why I walked away.

The last couple of years were full of you actively lying to me, just like a drug addict. Every time you told me you stopped taking the illegal estrogen it was a lie. You can't justify it by saying in the end that it was ok, because it wasn't. You were putting your life and health at risk and I had to make a decision. Support you while watching you put yourself in jeopardy, or speak up and take the risk of your scorn and derision. You were a coward in how you dealt with me and you destroyed my trust in you by your repeated lying.

All the game playing drove me away. The "guessing" games where I had to pull out any information because you couldn't come out and tell me things directly.

When I needed my best buddy there while I was scared and in pain, you had no time for me.

And the final blow to our friendship is how long it took you to tell me you had gotten married and then chosing to tell me by letting me read it in your journal. That was the day it all broke for me. That is not how friends treat each other. An event as big as that, and it was more "I have a secret and you don't know it but I want you to find it out" games. That act showed me how our history meant nothing to you.

I didn't walk away from the friendship until you destroyed it. This is not about your physical changes. Those were never the problem. The problem was the personality you chose to cloak yourself with. The person that Brian and I loved is gone. And the person you became isn't anything like that gentle, loving soul. The person you became isn't my friend.

I wish you well in your new life, but I don't think we can get back what we lost.

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May 2016

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