With no one wearing their real face It's a whiteout of emotion
She almost snorted, almost scoffed with wry agreement. Certainly her mouth twisted in a half smile that was entirely unimpressed - directed entirely at herself for being too easy to figure out. A shoulder rose and fell in a light shrug, neither co firming or denying what the man had already deduced. "Whatever still holds meaning," she replied to his musing, matter-of-fact. "If it still heals or hurts, if it still defines you – " Again, she shrugged. Good and bad had nothing to do with it. "Until it stops you from moving forward, hold on to anything that keep you feeling things." In her experience, numbness was the great enemy. The weariness that consumed color and dulled the senses, erasing the little things that made a life worth living. If anger kept you going, or weeping into the pillow at night unburdened you, if revisiting a grave to converse with the dead or the greedy consumption of food or drink brought even the slightest wash of color to gray days - so what if it was ugly and pointless to anyone else?
"What took me too long to figure out is to recognise when to let go. That's why I'm glad I didn't reset my life. I'd still be waiting to figure that out if I had, learning nothing all the while." Her gaze fell to the antler in his hand, pale against the darkness of midnight, then drifted off to the shrine. "Well... guess I'm still figuring out the how of letting things go. Perhaps you have an easier time of it than I?"
"What took me too long to figure out is to recognise when to let go. That's why I'm glad I didn't reset my life. I'd still be waiting to figure that out if I had, learning nothing all the while." Her gaze fell to the antler in his hand, pale against the darkness of midnight, then drifted off to the shrine. "Well... guess I'm still figuring out the how of letting things go. Perhaps you have an easier time of it than I?"
And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall
Maea
