With no one wearing their real face It's a whiteout of emotion
Listening quietly to the troubles and challenges this man wrestled with, she was reminded of the shades haunting her own mind. Family that had vanished, friends who'd gone no contact, whether dead or lost or just disinterested in revealing themselves. It made her realise with some surprise that she'd made actual progress in her striving to change. Hearing from another who faced similar issues as she'd wrestled with - and mostly overcome - was oddly refreshing. Like seeing notches on a door frame counting away the inches as proof that she had indeed grown.
Picking up on something he said, the wraith-like woman returned to the sheltered spot by the shrine, hunching down to sit where the wind couldn't get to her. "Are you alone, then? Is there no one else around you who remember Rane? Does his house no longer exist?" An ivory tail, pale as the bones piled into the shrine, whispered across the sand and wrapped around her knees. "Forgive me if that really is the case. I just think it might benefit you to try and expand your vision a bit. Perhaps only you may not be as isolated as you think." It was something he would have to figure out for himself, though, and she tried to refrain from saying too much. He hadn't asked for her opinion, and already she'd said more than she should...
A huffed lauugh cut off the train of thought, surprised and wry in equal measure. "Of course there are," she said lightly, because the journey of self-realization was one without end. "That never changes, I'm sorry to say. The moment you work out one knot, three more appear." Picking at a seam in her dress, she considered how much to share, whether to offer anything at all or keep her struggles to herself. The man spoke so openly though, that it was easy to get pulled along and forget they didn't actually know each other.
"For me... I need to change the way I think," she eventually said, settling for a layout of what challenges she faced - the next hurdle in her particular obstacle course. "My ideas on how the world works - or should work - have caused some grief, for people around me. Led me to do things I'm not proud of. Perhaps it's a matter of overconfidence, or maybe I'm just selfish... Either way, change needs to happen. Not sure how to make it happen, yet." It wasn't the kind of renewal that a change of scenery could do much about. Core beliefs weren't easily challenged nor comfortable to overwrite - and she still questioned whether it was even necessary. Of course, the evidence was piling up against her, but still... Still. Was she really the only one who was in the wrong? It didn't feel fair, somehow.
Picking up on something he said, the wraith-like woman returned to the sheltered spot by the shrine, hunching down to sit where the wind couldn't get to her. "Are you alone, then? Is there no one else around you who remember Rane? Does his house no longer exist?" An ivory tail, pale as the bones piled into the shrine, whispered across the sand and wrapped around her knees. "Forgive me if that really is the case. I just think it might benefit you to try and expand your vision a bit. Perhaps only you may not be as isolated as you think." It was something he would have to figure out for himself, though, and she tried to refrain from saying too much. He hadn't asked for her opinion, and already she'd said more than she should...
A huffed lauugh cut off the train of thought, surprised and wry in equal measure. "Of course there are," she said lightly, because the journey of self-realization was one without end. "That never changes, I'm sorry to say. The moment you work out one knot, three more appear." Picking at a seam in her dress, she considered how much to share, whether to offer anything at all or keep her struggles to herself. The man spoke so openly though, that it was easy to get pulled along and forget they didn't actually know each other.
"For me... I need to change the way I think," she eventually said, settling for a layout of what challenges she faced - the next hurdle in her particular obstacle course. "My ideas on how the world works - or should work - have caused some grief, for people around me. Led me to do things I'm not proud of. Perhaps it's a matter of overconfidence, or maybe I'm just selfish... Either way, change needs to happen. Not sure how to make it happen, yet." It wasn't the kind of renewal that a change of scenery could do much about. Core beliefs weren't easily challenged nor comfortable to overwrite - and she still questioned whether it was even necessary. Of course, the evidence was piling up against her, but still... Still. Was she really the only one who was in the wrong? It didn't feel fair, somehow.
And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall
Maea
