There are things that I will never understand about people. Giving up is one of those things. Staying and fighting the good fight is what we do. Human beings are built to survive. If we were not we would not be able to adapt to situations. Granted some do so more admirably than others. But life is about not giving in and giving up.
I am an idealist. So that is what I believe. However, tempered as a realist, or as some would say, a pessimist, I know that ideals can be impractical and flimsy things. Today my ideals are being challenged in a significant way. When faced with feeling abandoned reciprocating the abandonment seems less like giving up and more like accepting the obvious.
I do not want to accept this. But I have to because there is no way now for me to keep a hold of the one who wants to slip away. Today we bid farewell to Sir Knight, tarnished armor and sway backed steed and all.
I hope that Sir Knight finds the joy, peace and love that life brings. I wish that I had been able to repay your kindness from a past life in this one. Just in case you are really reading this as I have suspected. Incase you decide to keep trolling these meager lines of thought despite having cut all ties, let me tell you that I intend to tell our story. I want everyone to know that you were the best big brother ever... even with all the antagonizing.
I want everyone to know how you taught me to fish and how badly I sucked at it. I will tell everyone how you taught me to catch rabbits; how patient you were when you realized that the only way I would ever be able to skin them for meat would be in a time of desperation... how I saw you hide boyish tears when you buried the offal of my first field dressing. I think you were sorry for yelling at me because my hand shook so bad cutting through the skin. I will tell people how you taught me to ride, to find shelter in the forest during a fierce winter storm. I will tell people how you and your mother saved me that first day that we met. And then again when I stubbornly ran off ahead of a bad snow squall. I will tell them how your heart broke when your little sister died, how it scared you when I almost died. It took me so long to win your heart with that temper of mine that matched yours.
I will tell people how you died trying to save me; of having died together despite your best efforts.
We were not easy with each other. But when that day came that found us united against a common threat we were inseperable. In many ways you are how you were 650 years ago. For me, having relived that life time since I was 5, it is hard to see you any other way than this one. Headstrong, comapssionate, passionate, a defender, teacher and all about family.... the only difference is the belief in the old gods. Were I to have told you this then you could have heard and accepted the possibility. But in this life, the thought of a past life, reincarnation, is so foreign that I might as well be speaking a foreign language.
du bist mein Einziger
und wenn du erlich bist fuhlst du genau wie ich
du willst mich immernoch
I will miss you. Good luck, Dran.
Your hero-worshipping sister....
ain't it my luck that I still can't recall my old name?