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Read Into It What You Will

I told her to stop crying, the tears will stain. She lifted her head to
look at me and said, "Tears don't stain," as if what I said was just
the most stupid thing she'd ever heard of. I told her, "Of course they
do. Long after you stop crying, after the redness has left your eyes
and your nose is no longer swollen  people will know that you cried
because of the stains on your cheeks. They'll see the tracks plain as
day and they'll pity you. Do you want that? Their pity no matter how
well-meaning?" She sniffed and shook her head, her long bangs obscuring
her face. She rested her head against my shoulder and I sat there,
letting her borrow my strength. Her whole world had recently walked out
the door without so much as a "Sorry babe, but you know how it is. It
was fun while it lasted, right?" Broken and tired I let her rest while
her tears dried and she valiantly tried to choke back her sobs. It was
all I could do for her. She was alone in the dark, day after day. I
picked her up off the floor, flicked the feral dust bunnies off of her
and held her head up for her until she found the strength to carry on
without me. And so it has always been for us, the two of us surviving
the darkness and the pain. When she was broken I carried her until she
mended. When she was alone I told her stories and shared memories of
Never Was. And when she was all alone in the dark watching the Shadows
cavort across the ceiling I was nearby with a silver dagger in my hand,
waiting for one of them to step out of line. And so it has always been
and I suspect always will be for as long as she resides in this world
she will always have the strength to survive as long as I remain in
mine.

Posted on 10/15/2007 6:23 PM Visits: 18
mcdaniel37: 10/19/2007 5:34 AM
I'm on Facebook, too, so I'll look for you there.
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