Wednesday, 19 April 2017

In His Eyes

"How is Hrasta?" Foxfire asked after a moment.

"Fine, she's giving the ship a once over and making sure everything is working as intended." Caid's face turned sombre. "I think this is a little calming for her, since when she woke her memories...were not good ones."

Foxfire nodded, falling into pensive silence for a moment. Then she smiled and reached out to caress Caid's face. "Mine could not have been better," she said. Caid blushed, and Foxfire realised that was part of what drew her to him. He looked at her in a way that no one else had before, as though there could never be anyone better, anything else. With wonder and complete contentment in his eyes. "What would we ever do if I had no mission, hmm? Would you stare at me all day like that?" she asked him gently.

"Never," Caid said with a smile. "And we'd never go for walks together, we'd never travel or explore, we'd never eat wonderful food and laugh with friends. We'd never run down streets and poke in corners looking for the secrets. We'd never curl up together and just watch the world go by. We'd never go to new places, new worlds, we'd never run into danger or be bored. We'd never bicker or fight or be scared." Caid chuckled. "You'd certainly never threaten to throw me out of an airlock." His expression softened. "We'd never be sad. We would never cry. We would never try to have children, or watch each other die."

Caid took Foxfire's hand in his own. "And I'd never stare at you like the world is in your eyes."

Foxfire clasped his hand tightly. "Do you promise?"

"I promise," Caid whispered, leaning in and kissing her tenderly.

Something about how I feel always informs these kinds of scenes. I know I can never have something as wonderful or idealised as this, but I can't helped being moved to writing it. I know it's schmaltzy, but...a part of me wants to see it more than anything.

Monday, 17 April 2017

Don't Talk About...

It's been a strange time for me recently. Feeling high, feeling low, chasing after people, trying to let them go. But somehow it feels like a point at my life where things are really moving forward. I'm writing better than I have done for a long time, and actually getting through one of my novels, I hope. This will a huge milestone for me, because that's what's really been holding me back all these years - not finishing.

They say the world is full of people with great talent who never finish what they started, who never go all the way, whose wings are clipped before they get there. That's not going to be me. I'll take what I have and leave greatness to the others, because I've never felt do this than now.

And that's a strange feeling for me, because I've had a fear of failure for probably my entire adult life, and to step forward and not simply be thinking that I'm going to do this at some point, but instead it's going to be now, today, banking into something my head struggles to come to terms with. I can bank into a dream, but banking into that's a whirlwind.

Today I woke up with the strange feeling that I wanted to reach out a hand to someone and say: "You met me at a really strange time in my life, Marla," as the entire landscape of the world changed around us.

And I realised again, that I always wanted to see what happened afterwards.