Post by seyennaathenial on May 15, 2010 12:00:43 GMT -7
Dear Diary,
I am not used to keeping a diary, but so much has happened, I want to write it all down and be able to look at it later, and maybe process it when my head isn’t so full. Being nostalgic is dangerous, I have decided. One might not think so, because how can looking back on memories hurt you? Well they can. They seem untouchable, because you can’t go back, but that’s exactly how they hurt you – because you want to touch them and relive them. You want to go back, until it becomes an obsession that stops you from sleeping at night.
My pain from my mother’s death must stop. It is a hidden burden that I carry way too much, and way too long, and it threatens to make me hate her kind. I know it isn’t fair, but lately I have been thinking of her, and all the good times, and a part of me hates her for getting sick and not taking better care of herself, and not being strong enough to survive. Another part of me also is very angry she wasn’t an elf. If she were, then I never would have been hurt all these years, their marriage would have been generally accepted, and I could have gotten to know my grandparents.
Now I know my grandparents, but only under false pretenses. They think I am a pure blooded elf, and were they to know any different, they would cast me out of their home and disown me, much like they did to my father for loving my mother. *sighs* I know it’s immature to hate her for something that wasn’t her fault, (after all, one cannot choose what race they are born to, or who they fall in love with,) and really I am shocked at my own anger at her and her race, but lately I can’t help it.
Perhaps it is because I have been spending so much time with my grandparents, and their attitudes have begun to rub off on me. Really I must be more careful. I cannot forget that it was both my father and mother’s blood that brought me into this world. I was never like this before, so I cannot understand where all this negativity is coming from…*stops to think about it for a moment.* I suppose it is because for so many years, I was away from the Elven realm, and so I didn’t know what I was missing out on, so I didn’t care. Now that I’ve spent time with my grandparents however, and spent time with this side of my blood, I realize all I missed out on. The rights of passage for a young elven maiden, the festivities, the training to be a part of society…I do not hate what childhood my father has given me, but a part of me is angry at him too, that he couldn’t just be happy where he was.
I hate this discontent. It is as dangerous as remembering, I think. I will not look back, I make that promise to myself here and now, and perhaps for a while I will try to engage myself with human companions. I must remember my mother and what she gave me, even if it is foggy in my memory. I must remember her face and the lessons she gave me. For the good of my soul, I must, I must, I must!
~ Seyénna
I am not used to keeping a diary, but so much has happened, I want to write it all down and be able to look at it later, and maybe process it when my head isn’t so full. Being nostalgic is dangerous, I have decided. One might not think so, because how can looking back on memories hurt you? Well they can. They seem untouchable, because you can’t go back, but that’s exactly how they hurt you – because you want to touch them and relive them. You want to go back, until it becomes an obsession that stops you from sleeping at night.
My pain from my mother’s death must stop. It is a hidden burden that I carry way too much, and way too long, and it threatens to make me hate her kind. I know it isn’t fair, but lately I have been thinking of her, and all the good times, and a part of me hates her for getting sick and not taking better care of herself, and not being strong enough to survive. Another part of me also is very angry she wasn’t an elf. If she were, then I never would have been hurt all these years, their marriage would have been generally accepted, and I could have gotten to know my grandparents.
Now I know my grandparents, but only under false pretenses. They think I am a pure blooded elf, and were they to know any different, they would cast me out of their home and disown me, much like they did to my father for loving my mother. *sighs* I know it’s immature to hate her for something that wasn’t her fault, (after all, one cannot choose what race they are born to, or who they fall in love with,) and really I am shocked at my own anger at her and her race, but lately I can’t help it.
Perhaps it is because I have been spending so much time with my grandparents, and their attitudes have begun to rub off on me. Really I must be more careful. I cannot forget that it was both my father and mother’s blood that brought me into this world. I was never like this before, so I cannot understand where all this negativity is coming from…*stops to think about it for a moment.* I suppose it is because for so many years, I was away from the Elven realm, and so I didn’t know what I was missing out on, so I didn’t care. Now that I’ve spent time with my grandparents however, and spent time with this side of my blood, I realize all I missed out on. The rights of passage for a young elven maiden, the festivities, the training to be a part of society…I do not hate what childhood my father has given me, but a part of me is angry at him too, that he couldn’t just be happy where he was.
I hate this discontent. It is as dangerous as remembering, I think. I will not look back, I make that promise to myself here and now, and perhaps for a while I will try to engage myself with human companions. I must remember my mother and what she gave me, even if it is foggy in my memory. I must remember her face and the lessons she gave me. For the good of my soul, I must, I must, I must!
~ Seyénna