I feel her, yet she does not let me touch her,
As she lets herself fall, I cushion her landing.
I hear her, though she does not speak to me.
As she cries herself to sleep, I become her pillow.
I protect her but still she fears my presence,
As she walks alone, I follow in the shadows.
Her smile much like the sun on a winters day,
Breaks through the cloud that is her frown.
In her eyes she is a monster,
In mine she is a princess.
I tell her though she chooses to ignore,
As she asks me why I stick around.
I tell her that it is my duty,
As, 'I am your friend, your brother… your angel!'
I'm still alive, albeit barely. I still think about many of you frequently, and I'm sorry I haven't been around. I'll try to write a journal on that note in the new year, for whoever's interested.
For now, I simply wished to say that I hope everyone has (or has had, or is having) a lovely christmas (or other mid-winter festival of your choice) as well as a good new year, with the people you love.
Bittersweet. I'm starting to like that word. Maybe it's just that I seem to have more occasions to use it lately.
Homecomings, too, are somewhat bittersweet.
In any case, I arrived back in the UK last week, for those who are interested.
Miss me?