29 de mayo 2014 -

mi alma,

I was walking through the market today when I found this book and thought of you. We used to write poetry together, you and I. Many years have come and gone since then. We haven?t written to each other in some time. But remembering how we did, I knew I had to buy this book.

For you.

Fio tells me you?ll turn up again, like you always do. I want to believe her. I want her words to be true.

I miss you.

And I?m sorry.

I was so used to you always being there that I didn?t notice when you were gone until-- until-- Until I realized I had no idea how long it had been since you had actually been there beside me instead of the ghost of your memory.

I?m sorry I couldn?t find you this time.

- siempre tuyo

2 de junio 2014

mi alma,

I think I?m starting to become you. How did you wear all these masks so well? Ah, but you didn?t - did you. I always saw the cracks in your armor. I?m the one who saw you breaking. Or at least the one who had the balls to point it out - every time.

I?m a liar - mentiroso

I remember when you called me that. Everyone still eats my words and takes them as they are. They believe me - but they shouldn?t - when I tell them that I?m fine. Or maybe they are just too polite to ask. I was never one for courtesy, no?

me and my filthy mouth
always getting me in trouble

He had the balls to tell me that my taste in men was poor - when I took a little mouse by the throat and made him mine for a day. I should have eaten him - the mouse. I should have kept my mouth shut when the monster played with his own little toy right before my eyes. We fought as monsters do - and now I have a friend.

Funny how it always works out that way.

Time slips by me like it?s never passed at all.

When I stop looking all my ghosts come out to play with me again. Peluche and Aoife and now this greedy Italian who shared my bed with me last night. He?s always telling me to smile. I wish I could soothe his madness the way you always did for me.

me haces falta

tanto

- siempre tuyo

7 de junio 2014

mi alma,

I remember when you told me there are many kinds of love. When I was a boy - a stupid, stupid boy.

I?m angry with you today.

My Italian comes to talk to me in the middle of the night. He comes to sap my feelings from me and make me talk. I don?t much like talking. I talked to him anyway. He?s in my head and I can?t make him go away. I?m not sure I want to.

Where did you go? I looked everywhere. I looked for so long. I couldn?t find you anywhere.

No, I?m not angry with you. I?m angry with me. I broke my promise to you, our promise. We said we?d always find each other, and I can?t. This time I can?t. I tried and tried. It was driving me mad trying so hard. Mi hermano told me to stop - so I did.

I?m starting a life for myself. This is something I never had. Always I was in your shadow. Always I followed your orders. Always I did what you wanted. Even when you told me to add parts of myself to what was supposed to be ours. In the end it became only mine. I was all that was left. My ghost swallowed up yours and left everything empty. All that remained were things. I left them there to gather dust.

I?m angry with myself. The only dream I ever had before was you. Now I?m making a different one, without you in it. Only the memory of you, and these words -

My Italian says he wants me to be happy. Happy. I?m not sure I know what that means. Not anymore.


- siempre tuyo

11 de junio 2014

mi alma,

Peluche came to see me last night. Maybe you never heard me call him that. You?d know him when you saw him, though. He?s been a comfort to me for so very long, but last night he tore me up inside with his questions and his words.

You know I don?t like to cry, but I confess so many tears were shed for you last night. They?re coming back now as I write this to you. Because I don?t know.

He asked if you are dead - and I don?t know.

His words and Rei?s words -

Little claws digging in deep and tearing me apart inside. Do you not want to be found like he says? I don?t want to think that you might have left -

That?s worse than dead. Please, please only be a ghost?

I wish I could forget you.

Sometimes in little moments I get swept away and I can. There?s everyone and everything and no room left for thought of you. But then I?m alone, and you?re all there is.

When will you stop haunting me?

- siempre tuyo

18 de junio 2014

mi alma,

I?m doing it again. This is just like it was with you. Another man I can?t have to myself. Years went by before you finally let me have you. I don?t know if this one ever will, but I can?t help loving him - wanting him - needing him.

All I ever did was follow you. Did what you told me. I never really thought about doing anything for me, but now I am. This time my orders are my own to follow. Except for one, and it kills me to obey it.

I think you would be proud of me for what I?m building. This place suits me perfectly. I had a little help. I let Thorn go wild on my roof and I?m pleased with what she?s done. She built me high places and planted apple trees. You?d think you were in a forest instead of the sky.

I never thought I would have a business of my own. Things are going much more smoothly than I could have planned. Soon the basement will be finished, and then the cold rooms will be installed. In another month I think I will be ready to hire people. Though it will be a while before the pigs are ready.

I hired a girl today for that. She?s dull and ugly and sounds like she knows what she?s talking about. The surrounding land won?t be ready for her until next year. There are buildings to demolish and fences to build.

All that is left of my inheritance has gone into this. I even sold my father?s house. I won?t be going back to Barcelona. I don?t think I?ll ever go back to Spain at all. There are too many memories there. Best that I bury them and move on.

Odd. Today the thought of putting you behind me does not hurt so very much at all.

- siempre tuyo

22 de junio 2014

mi alma,

People don?t stay dead in this world. Miracles happen that bring them back from the grave. I don?t think even your own father stays buried where Madre put him. I know the she elf did not.

I remember when she died. Your disbelief was so strong it was hurtful. Your doubt was a harsh knife that cut me more deeply than I let you see. I never hated her. It was only that when I saw her all I could feel was pain. Her very presence was a reminder of what - of who - had been lost to me.

And now she uses your name as a knife to cut me.

Will you stay gone? Are you a ghost to me forever? You should be. You should stay away. I can?t bear the thought of losing him forever. I already lost him once. Never again. I gave him my oath of that. I gave him my name. I gave him all the truths of what I am.

This is binding. As I was bound to you. My blood told you all these secrets and made me yours. But now I?m his too.

I?m not sure what this means. My new son - she called me this in her words. I?m not sure how I feel about it. I have such little luck with mothers. Though I never knew yours. You never spoke of her. Only sisters and brothers, and a niece I told a story to once upon a time.

I like to think that?s where you are now. That you found your way back to them, the family that you lost. I like to think you?re happy. That you don?t need me anymore to keep you from breaking again.

We always find each other broken. I haven?t found you, so that must mean that you are whole.

Somewhere.

- una vez tuyo

1 de julio 2004

mi alma,

I?m thinking of you this morning while the echo of another lover?s words roll around in my head. Hurtful, hateful words - and I don?t think he even knows what he said. I haven?t told him what you were to me. It still hurts to talk about you at all. It hurts to think about you, so I wrap myself up in lies and pretend you had never been.

I can forget you when I?m with him. I think I?m happy for a time. He makes me laugh. He makes me smile. My heart swells with warmth for him, and I am content. For a time.

We argued. Always people are wanting to fight me with words, and I?m no good at it. I say all the wrong things. I never say what I mean. I don?t know if anyone ever says what they mean, but I see now that like me he says hurtful things and doesn?t even realize it. And I won?t tell him, because he?s jealous enough of you as it is.

?With half my soul ripped from me and gone forever.?

Yes, I know how that feels, and I can?t tell him. He tells me he loves me so much that should you ever come back to me he?d let me go. He?d give me back. Give me up. To you. And I don?t want him to.

How did you feel while you watched me breaking? Is that why you left? Was it that you couldn?t bear to look at me anymore for all the blood and sex I painted on my skin? Neither of which belonged to you, but so many others. So many I can?t even name them all anymore. Some shared my violence. Others never lived to see another day.

You knew I was a monster, and still you loved me. You called me beautiful. You kept me in a house by the sea and thought I would be content there. And while it was quiet, and I found some peace within those walls - no. I was never really - home.

I?m not a boy anymore. I?m not a pet you can keep caged and coddled. But you knew that, didn?t you? You saw. You could always see. But I - I was blinded by you. Not so with my luz. I love him, and I think sometimes he shines brighter than you.

- m?s tarde

4 de julio 2014

mi alma,

Sometimes I need to get away. This is how it was for you, no? I see that now. Much as you loved me, spending every night with me was too much to bear. I never minded, though. I like being alone sometimes too. And sometimes I like being with someone else.

Last night I stayed with my Italian. We slept together in a tent by the sea. Can things be both pleasant and painful at the same time? Because it was. The background was a memory of you, smothered out by his skin against my own.

This morning I?m remembering the night you came to talk to me of Mishka. You told me how dependent his kind was upon making a bond of three, mating with two other people. You asked me if I could love him, and I told you no. I couldn?t, and it wasn?t fair to pretend to try. Not for him and not for you.

I understand now how hard it must have been for you, living two lives with two lovers who could never be together with you at the same time. I remember how heart-broken you were when he died. I wish I could have loved him the way you wanted me to, so that he could have lived and kept you smiling. But you know my heart was only yours - back then.

It?s split three ways now. A piece of it is Rei?s. A piece of it belongs to my Italian. And a piece of it will always still be yours I think.

My Italian asks me if I?m happy. I think I am sometimes in moments, but not quite yet as a whole. If I could have all of you, all three of you, together with me--

But I couldn?t ask you to try. I know you wouldn?t be able to. None of you. All three of you would fight for the whole of me amongst yourselves.

I wonder who would win? But I know. And I think you all know too. If it came to that, there would be no winner.

So I give up my happiness to be with you all in bits and pieces. I break time up and give some of it to you, some of it to him, some of it to him as well. And sometimes I give my time to her, and her, and him. Time has no meaning anyway, and tomorrow never comes.

- m?s tarde

14 de julio 2014

mi alma,

How do I explain the Autumn?

I never had to with you. You just knew. Maybe madre told you, or maybe you just watched me coming apart at the seams year by year and made sense of it on your own. But I never had to worry with you, because you were already dead.

?Maybe you should journal it,? he tells me.

Hah! And here I am. Though he?ll never read these words about it. How would he feel about me writing to you? Still. I don?t want to upset him.

He?s not a fragile creature, that?s for sure. He?s taken all that I?ve unleashed on him so far. But I?m still holding back. And you know I don?t hold back in the Autumn.

I could kill him. I should warn him. But I don?t know how.

Seventy some days until her season is upon me, and I can feel the seconds tick-tick-ticking away. The days are hot now, but every day that passes has them growing colder. The hunger?s starting to boil inside and I can?t help myself when something pretty steps into my arms.

It?s going to be worse this year. I can feel it.

Or maybe not.

I?m surrounded by people now whom I think can help me curb the temper, satisfy the hunger, quiet the monster always scrabbling to the surface inside. I think he caught a glimpse of it yesterday. Not so hard to push it back down right now, but the Autumn is his time. He?ll be in the driver?s seat and I?ll be watching myself spiral out of control.

And I have nightmares again.

But it?s not your face I see in them anymore.

y me temo que

- perdido

23 de julio 2014

mi alma,

How did you do it? How did you manage to love so many different people all at once and keep them happy? Or did you not? How many of them begged you to give me up so they could have you all to themselves? Is that what you did? Is that why you?re gone? I hope you?re happy without me. Sometimes I?m not without you.

If you were here you?d have words to say that would ease all my troubles. You always knew just what to say. I never knew what to say to you, though. Every time I opened my mouth I said all the wrong things. I must have made you miserable.

Things were easier with you, though. At first you never liked my other lovers, but then you came to know them and loved them as your own. You never let it show that it bothered you, my sleeping around. I never thought it did. You never said.

But now there?s one who says. He tells me in so many words he doesn?t like me sleeping around. I don?t see why it matters. Except he knows. He sees. He feels.

I?m not going to stop fcking around, though. I like these people I share my body with. And there are a few I want to, but haven?t yet. Even though they?re ready and willing and accepted offers I?ve made long ago. I?m holding back. I don?t know why. I don?t know if in part it?s because I don?t want to upset him, or if I?m scared.

Nobody knows this. I don?t know what to expect, and that worries me. It?s been a long time since I?ve been with a woman I actually give a sht about. I don?t want to disappoint her. She says so long as I enjoy her there?s no way that I can, but I don?t know. And her mate both intrigues and terrifies me at the same time.

I?m no one?s btch, he said to me. My Italian. My jealous lover whose body I?ve never fully known. I know his heat and his curves and the taste of his mouth. I know his secrets, and he knows mine. And everything I say and do, no matter how I try, only upsets him. How can he love me? I?m an as*hole.

- m?s tarde

16 de agosto 2014

mi alma,

Today I find myself missing my Italian fiercely, but I probably only have myself to blame. I?m sitting here staring at the phone he gifted me at a loss for words. I?ve never been very good with them anyway. I just don?t know what to say. I could text him a hello, but then what?

The last time I talked to him he told me he had proposed to his lover. They?re to get married, I suppose. I only have myself to blame for that too. I told him he should go back to him. You don?t just throw away hundreds of years like that. Especially not for me.

I?m glad for him. I hope this makes him happy. I know I never do.

We?re alike in so many ways, but in so many others we are so very different. He?s a creature driven by so much passion and a demanding need for love. Adoration. Worship. I can?t give him that. I can?t worship him. I just don?t have it in me.

I never even did with you. Did I? It?s strange. I find I can?t remember.

When I close my eyes and think about it, I find myself looking back at another person, a stranger who wasn?t ever really me. The way I ached for you. How much I wanted you. I was a stupid little boy who always got his way. I pushed aside everyone and everything just to be yours. And even when I had you -- I didn?t.

I like what I have now. All of this is mine. Bits and pieces of it are his -- mi luz, mi amado. But most of it is mine. Including him. It?s nice to have someone to come home, instead of a big empty house where you left me.

Everything will be finished by September, which is good and bad. I?ll have my own hunting grounds, at least, a place to keep it all contained. But I still need to tell him.

y yo no s? c?mo

hoy te extra?o

- vez tuyo

30 de agosto 2014

mi alma,

23 days until the Autumn. A little more than three weeks. I can feel it coming just like I always do. There?s a tingle under my skin. Soon my veins are going to be burning from the swell of Her power inside me.

What am I going to do with it all?

I have this tooth some fool gifted me with last night. He dropped it in my beer bottle after I?d kicked his mouth in to break it loose in the first place. Idiot doesn?t know better than to keep his mouth shut around me. Maybe next time I?ll sew his lips together like I did that mouthy girl we had in the basement once.

What was her name? Sophie? The girl of le?Kresh? My time with her was not my proudest moment. Did I even get the answers you wanted? Does it matter? Does anything to do with you matter anymore?

Of course it does.

You saw me through so many Autumns. You saw the worst of me and the best of me, and still you stuck beside me. Even when I wanted to break through your chest and pull your ribs out one by one. Then your heart and all the meat of you.

How I hated you. How I loved you. How were those feelings even possibly the same with you? They were. That?s all I know. I wanted to kiss you and fuck you and flay you alive all at once, and maybe leave you living. Maybe. Well. As alive as you could ever be.

I?ve had enough of the Spanish, enough of my father?s people. Enough humanity. I have to laugh, though, because in 23 days I will crave nothing but them. I won?t even need a taste of my mother?s people for being so overflowing with Her essence.

It?s a shame this one is not completely human. If he was I think I?d make it a point to eat him first. I?ll get some enjoyment out of making him suffer and scream in any case. The fool should have kept his tooth.

- m?s tarde

6 de septiembre 2014

mi alma,

It was her home as much as it was ours you know, but I don?t think you thought of that at all. Nobody else has really mattered to you but you, have they? You probably think the only one you hurt in this is me, but you?d be wrong.

Peluche is hurting too. He was with me when I found the mess you made. That mask he wears hides so much, but I?ve known him long enough to know when his words are quiet and forcefully soothing, just for me, that deep inside he?s hurting too.

It wasn?t only me you left behind.

They buried their pain for my sake, everyone I told, when I told them I couldn?t find you. They probably think I didn?t notice the way their colors shifted from warm to cold. I watched the holes crack into being and pull apart on their hearts. Every one.

I told Rekah last night. She stumbled in the room behaving like a broken record of herself. It was cruel, the way I forced her to the front of her head, reached in and pulled her out of her safe hiding place. She found the mess you made too and thought she?d been the cause. But I know better. And I told her. You?ll be lucky if she doesn?t hate you too.

There are others I have yet to tell. My brother deserves the knowing. He loved you as strongly as I do, once, and maybe even some sliver of that remains still. If I don?t tell him soon he?s going to lecture me, the way he does.

I should tell Dan, too. The news of your disappearance shattered him. I could see. He kept it bottled up well, but I heard him crying when he shut the door behind me. I haven?t spoken to him much at all since then. Except once when he came to see the kingdom I?ve been building for myself with his own eyes.

Do you remember that time after long days of madness, when I crawled out of the dirt and the grime, and my hair was so matted that I took a knife to my head and shaved it all off? I remember you telling me never to do it again.

Fuck you too, then. I don?t have much else to make that statement to you as clearly as this. It?s only hair though. It?ll grow back. Our house won?t.

Asshole.

11 de septiembre 2014

mi alma,

You deserve an explanation. These words will not make things right between us, but you are worthy of them all the same.

Where to begin?

Madre would tell me - the best place to begin is the beginning. You know all of that, though. So many years you walked beside me and learned nearly all there was to know of me. You were everything I needed, all I ever wanted.

We fae are selfish creatures - She says. My blood swells with the constant flow of Her essence, and then I am only half of her, her words are no less true regarding me too.

I am selfish. I am cruel. I think I always will be.

Where did things go wrong between us?

When I think on it, there is one moment that comes to mind above all others. This was five years ago, half my lifetime. I can imagine you shuddering even as I think to write the words to remind you of it now.

Do you remember the chains?

I do. I will never forget them. Any time I see chains now, no matter their make, something buried deep inside of me quivers with fear and whimpers, alone in the dark.

I was not afraid of the chains themselves. I feared for what they were doing to you. How they kept us from being together. Even now, all these long years later, I cannot at all reason why you might have bound yourself to them to begin with.

You were such a fucking idiot, but I loved you.

I still do.

When we finally defeated them and freed you from their possession - do you remember what I said to you? In that shattered moment when you were bruised and broken and all you wanted to do was curl up in bed, in my arms, finally, after too long a time of being unable to touch you -

Do you remember what I said?

I do. I remember. I am fae, if only in part, and we stay true to our words.

Never again.

(still same day)

Of course, not everything is your fault.

I never saw it coming.

All the history of the world is laid out before me. I consume it all. Know it all. Everything but tomorrow. Because it never comes.

Until it does.

Long, long ago - I wrote him off as dead. So much new was happening and he had disappeared. Through whispers and rumors - and even from his mother?s mouth - I learned where he had gone. I heard he never meant to come back.

Back then he was only a friend to me. My first and dearest friend who chose romance over everything else. He left, and I found other friends. Though none of them were quite as true as you.

I knew him before I ever had any understanding of love. Before I had any desire for sex. I knew him when I was a boy, and I never looked upon him in any way but as a brother.

Boys grow into men, though.

Two years ago I watched him strut through the door as if he had never been gone at all. The sight of him stole my breath away. And at first it was only because I thought he was a ghost.

He told me his sad story. He told me a tale of lies and deception. He told me he regretted nothing but the friendship he had lost with me. For seven years. And he told me he wanted to rebuild what we could.

But as you know - what is lost to fire and ash can never be rebuilt the same. Only something new can be born from it.

Two years.

I avoided him for two years for fear of admitting what was becoming true.

12 de septiembre 2014

mi alma,

These words were always meant for you. This book is yours. I?ve shared this with no one else. Maybe people have seen me writing in it, but they don?t know what it is. This is our secret. This is between you and me.

I?m writing this now to you - still in the Red Dragon. I can?t bring myself to leave knowing you?re upstairs. I don?t want to go home. It?s not the same without you. All I want to do right now is go up there and knock on every door until I find the room you?re in. I want to lay with you again too. You more than anyone.

I don?t know if my brother wants to see you. I didn?t ask. I didn?t read this until after he left. He was here. He saw you with me. He came in just as you left. He asked, but I don?t know if it?s for me to say. I told him to ask you himself.

I went to him first. When I was lost and reeling. When I finally admitted that you were gone and I couldn?t find you and had no idea where or when you?d be back or if at all - I needed someone to lead me again, so I handed him my leash and asked him what to do.

He told me to stop looking. He told me to leave the house. He told me he?d take the blame when I told him you?d burned it down. That I should tell you it was his idea. And it was. They were orders. He knows my name too.

I?m being tugged in all directions over this, and I don?t know which course is true. My heart hammers for two of you now. And I know you hate it. I know you can?t stand it - not being in command anymore. I saw the way you bristled when I told you he has my name - and my heart - too.

I can?t let you go. I can?t just give up. I can?t-

When I?m ready, you said. Yes. When I?m ready. I need time. Though there?s not much left where I think I?ll be rational enough to make clear decisions. I have no idea what the Autumn will bring.

Please be patient with me.

Te amo todav?a.

- siempre

16 de septiembre 2014

mi alma,

Part of me is a dragon. I collect little bits and pieces of all the things I covet most. A little bit of Skid here. Parts of Rei there. Buttons for Rekah in a jar on the nightstand. Plants that Thorn put in for me. But nothing of you.

Haha. Peluche would laugh at me for calling myself a dragon. Or maybe he wouldn?t. The words of his kind swirl around in my head. Buzzing and burning and wanting to be said. When I say them, though, I only blow shit up. Sorry about that.

But you. T? siempre. Always always always.

I think I?m going to have the dogwood trees moved. I?ve wanted to ask - did you save the petrified one? I don?t remember seeing it in all the ash. Maybe its buried with the freezer. If I can find it, I?ll save it for you. I?ll find a way.

The trees though.

I?m going to move them. The fire never touched them. All seven. I planted them for you. They?re my parts of you. So I?m taking them and moving them to Matadero. I?ll spread them out and put them to use. Better that than leaving them neglected.

...than leaving you neglected.

Dama will like them. Ah. Yes. I never got around to introducing you to her. The only one you met was Nikky. There are others. Remind me to have you meet her and Snubs, Grumples and Daisy. Skid named those last three. I think the one is still sleeping.

I?m leaving you this.* Always I need to remind myself that Matadero is mine. I let them in. I welcome them. You are always welcome there too, mi alma. Even though I know you aren?t comfortable there. Not yet. If you need me, this is where you can find me.

- siempre




(*this happens to be a key tucked into the book on this page)

(The following entry is written on a loose piece of paper folded in half and wedged between the pages of the previous entry and the next in this journal.)


18 de septiembre 2014

mi alma,

I asked him how he does it - the ribbon man. The one with so many names. He?ll never tell you the real one, because he?s fae, and I don?t trust him. I see through all the lies clinging close to his skin. I see him for what he really is. Dangerous and manipulative and selfish and a liar.

Too much like me.

You call them my armor, my many lovers who surround me. I call them each by different names. Every one has their own. Something special. Something solely them to me. As you are mi alma and will always be. Nobody can be that but you for me. Never. Only you.

How does he do it? - I asked him.

People call it different things. A coterie. A coven. A circle of lovers that all share him and understand they can never fully have him, much as they might want, all to themselves. Each of them coveting him entirely. Smitten with him. Enchanted and bespelled by what they perceive to be the whole of him. In truth he only shows them pieces.

Sometimes I think I?m the only one who wants nothing to do with him. Sometimes I think I?m the only one who sees him for what he is. I?m the only one who knows better than to take his little gifts. A faerie gift is a curse as much as a blessing. He gives them away freely. Ribbons and words and moments. And all of them become his instantly.

Maybe not completely, though. Not all of them. Not the ones that own themselves. The way Skid does. I learned that from him long ago. He owns himself and I find it easy to overlook his dallying with the ribbon man too. And right now I thank God that nobody else so dear to me has fallen under his spell.

I told him - the ribbon man - how Rei compared me to him and he told me a story to determine if it were true. I owe him my own if we are to be fair and balanced and I am to owe him nothing at all. But so much of that story is yours, too, and some secrets are not mine to tell. Nor am I as good a storyteller as others.

This is something to think on. Something that must be done to set the scales even again. But I have time. There is always time, because to the fae it is nothing at all.

And I can hear you asking me, even though you?re not here right now while I?m writing this. I can feel you beside me asking - Well? Is it true? Are you the same?

No. We are not the same. There is much we have in common, but he is not a perfect blend of human and fae the way I am - the way she is. Still, like me, he too is not fully fae. The mixture of what he is still makes him more powerful than me, though. I can feel it. I can taste it in the air around him when he?s near. The susurros tell me of his status. A Lord.

Comparatively I am nothing. I?m the dirt he walks on. A dangerous tool that even he sees the value of besides. And he told me once that he coveted me too. I felt ill. Still do, when I think about it, like now.

But there are some similarities, some things we have in common. I have to give him that. I can?t deny the truth of it. The one, most importantly, is a love that will never die. One that will always be. One that I?ll never give up willingly.

Even when I thought you were dead, I still loved you. Even when I learned you were not - I never stopped. I?ll never stop. Even if you, or anyone, ordered me to - that?s one command I?ll not obey. Because I can?t. No more than I can the foolish command Rei tried on me not to die. I can?t promise that. Some day she?ll take back all that she used to make me. Everything dies.

Everything - except maybe love.

I think I understand her now. My mother. Is that why she can never know it? That one thing that her hands can never touch. A weakness, she calls it. I get it.

But ah. How does he do it?

Ground rules, he said. Where do I even begin with those?

- siempre tuyo

19 de septiembre 2014

mi alma,

I saw him again last night. We spoke and everything went to hell. Not between us, though. The ribbon man and I have a mutual understanding. We equally dislike and distrust each other. And that?s the way it should be.

These are things you do not wish to hear. But I?m at my wits end and I write to you because-

Because you?ve always listened. No matter what I had to say. Even if you disagreed with me or the words hurt for you to hear, you always listened. You always read my words and saw them for what they were.

He?s so much like everyone else I?ve ever known that it?s unsettling. Just like them he sees and hears the words that are not there.

When he came in he heard us talking. I?m sure he didn?t understand by listening in. He never understands. I?m lucky I understand half the time. Talking to my mother?s people can be fucking maddening, and you know it. Nobody ever talks plainly. Always riddles, sometimes rhymes.

And then he joined us and had the gall to turn his charm on and flash it at a knife edge. Fool flirts with danger, and his mother?s lover besides. That woman--

Your opinion of her is worse than mine, I know. I still care for her, but every time she opens her mouth I want to punch her teeth in for saying something stupid. I should?ve threatened her with the knife to the eye when I saw her caught in the ribbon man?s star-eyed web.

If I told him not to talk to him, it would only start an argument. I could tell him why. You don?t trust the fae. You just don?t. Aha. But then there?s me and I am one of them - in part. And I can already see him turning my words against me to protest. And I would say exactly what he won?t like to hear.

The truth.

Idiot. Shouldn?t trust me either.

- siempre

26 de septiembre 2014

mi alma,

Little moments. Sometimes there are little moments like this where everything is clear and I?m in my head again. Where I?m calm and it?s okay and -

I don?t know. They come and go.

Hah. Poetry. Goddamn rhymes. I can hear her too, whispering and buzzing in the back of my head with all the others.

I forgot what it was like.

So many past years spent in solitude. No temptations. Only ghosts. Starving myself until the Winter came.

Have I mentioned the Warlock? Such a fun creature. He screams so very prettily. He likes to watch. He likes to touch. Or he did - until he saw how much mi luz wanted to possess me. Until I asked Peluche to tell him what I couldn?t find the words to say.

Last night I found some, though. I?ve been making sense of it myself all these years. I?m starting to understand.

Now if only I could find these same words to explain it to Rei.

If it even matters now.

It?s the slow decay. It?s too much of Her and not enough of Me. Little teeth tearing me apart bit by bit. And I have to keep eating, keep replacing the parts She steals away.

But you know this. You remember. And I?m only babbling these things at paper as a reminder to myself. Always hungry.

Always always. Ever always.

-siempre

2 X 2014

mi alma,

I hate this. I hate not knowing where I stand with you anymore. I hate asking. I shouldn?t have to ask. I shouldn?t have to feel like I can?t just be with you. But I do. And I hate it.

I should be yours. I should. You told me I?m not, but I should be. I can?t stand not - not being yours. But I am still. I am.

siempre siempre siempre

I just want to stay here with you. But I know you?ll make me leave and I hate that too.

need to hunt anyway

Thought I?d collected enough. Went through what I had so fast. Always hungry.

always always always

siempre y~*



( *a scribble line cuts off the text here, suggesting his writing was interrupted )

October Fourth


Al pasar la barca me dijo el barquero:
"Las ni?as bonitas no pagan dinero."
yo no soy bonita ni lo quiero ser
yo pago dinero como otra mujer.

Al pasar la barca te dijo el barquero:
"Las ni?as bonitas no pagan dinero.
T? siendo bonita no lo quieres ver,
y no pagas dinero como otra mujer."





I will remember your face in the moonlight next to mine, the smell of the sea, and the feeling of your skin on mine, there in the shadow of the House of Ash.

As things are meant to be, they will be. I promise you.



- siempre mi amor




--



how can it feel this wrong
from this moment

October Seventh


Mi alma,


Remember: it hurts because the love is real. The pain is just a symptom of it being alive.

It will hurt when you look at him. It will hurt when he smiles at you and when he chooses not to. The very thought of him will burn you, no matter what ire and venom move between you to create a chasm in your love. When your anger rises because the two of you cannot understand, remember that the anger exists because love overcomes hatred. That there is a strength in your bond that still rings as true as an iron bell. If you dull the pain, if you submit to letting yourself forget, time will rot your love into apathy.

You and I have the benefit of growing together. Our roots are intertwined so deeply that even if the trees were to die that death would not part us in passing. Your love with Rei is still brand-new and stretches toward a sun now heavy with a clouded sky. You cannot hold our bond, our understanding, as a comparison to his and yours -- and he cannot either. I think he will see that soon. There are ways you and he will and do love each other that will not be the same as our love, just as our love will never match his; if it were identical, why would we seek it out? This is why you must foster it, even in pain.

These are the little lessons we are taught in hurtful ways, like children who reach out to touch a flame. I remember them often. Even when I turned our home to the House of Ash, the anger and pain and misery made me understand that I must humble myself. That our bond was as true as I made it out to be. Because even now, the pain still courses through my body like a storm.

I love you, my karma made flesh. Be patient. Be humble. Quiet your mind against the fear and understand the pain and what makes it.



- siempre



--



it?s what keeps me alive
so why does it still hurt

October Nineth


Mi alma,

I could take you away from all of them. I could claim you as my own and I know you would let me. I am a selfish creature. The power to cage you is always right there, in my hands. My own little siren song; my own hell. I wanted to last night. While I took you and made you mine and carved your flesh anew with hands that hurt and hold you in equal weight. My name on your skin. While I kissed the blood away and watched the monster and the man mingle with each other until it was so beautiful it was unbearable. And I ask myself: will anyone understand this? Will anyone see him as I do? And even if they do, do they deserve it? No. No.


The day I give in to that power is the day Tohias is truly dead.


- siempre, hasta la muerte



--



I struggle with myself
hoping I might change a little
hoping that I might be someone
I want to be

(This next entry is undated, and these few words take up the whole page.)


It worked.


I feel like shit.


-

(The following entry is a folded in half piece of paper, written on both sides, inserted between the pages of the previous entry and the next.)


13 de octubre 2014

mi alma,

You asked me to answer you honestly. At the time, I did. But I?ve had more time to think about it now that it might make the me of yesterday out to be a liar.

Would I still be with him if you had not come home?

I said I don?t know, and at the time that was true. It?s not something I?d thought about until you asked me. But now it?s all I can think about. Which makes me think back on these past few months, and I see things I didn?t before.

Jealousy was in him from the start. So was misunderstanding.

The night he told me that he wanted me, he caught me kissing a little mouse. A daring boy who stepped so willingly into my arms. Rei came upon us and pulled my plaything off of me in a rage. It angered him to see me with someone else, and he dared to tell me he did it because of you. If he knew you, though, he never would have said that.

?It pissed me off,? he said. And then he said ?you belong to Sinjin Fai.?

Did I kiss him in the alley because I wanted to? Or did I do it because I wanted to make him eat his words? I belong to no man. I may be yours, but I am not property or a prize.

And yet he said this - ?you belong to Sinjin Fai? - before he even ever saw my scars.

He wouldn?t let me walk away. He stopped me and told me that he lied, that he didn?t care about you. He said he wanted to kill the mouse for touching me, and me for letting him. And then he asked me to speak with him in private.

And there in the alley he confessed that he wanted me.

In the beginning we were only lust and fire. I kissed him, but that night I walked away. I left him burning with his desire. I shouldn?t have even kissed him. I wanted to. I wanted him then, too. But it was wrong.

Two weeks later I went to my brother to tell him I had lost you. I didn?t tell him anything of kissing Rei. The pain I felt from losing you weighed more heavily on me than a kiss I shouldn?t have shared.

I was only beginning to mourn you when he came to me ten days after that.

I was only beginning to build my little empire - my domain - Matadero.



You say my love for Rei is still young and new, and you?re right. Though in some way I always loved him. As a friend, so long ago. My first friend. The friend I lost to love - though he tells me a story now of deceit and treachery, a tale that ended in death.

If what he says is true, I forgave him the moment he told me. But in all the time that he was gone, there was you.

I could ask so many questions. There are so many what ifs, but they?re only going to ruin us all. Had he never left with his lover all those years ago, would it be him in my life where you are now? Would it be him instead of you?

I know the answer to that one, mi alma, and it is no. I never felt for him the way I feel for you.

I never felt for anyone the way I feel for you. Even though I love others - like Skid - you are first. Always, always, you are my -

Much as I hate and distrust the fucker, he?s right. The ribbon man is right. You are my Forever.

You are not to blame for this, mi alma. I am. I forgot that half of me is human. I let the fae in me win, and take control. I let my Shine consume me and help me forget the pain. Forget you.

I?ll need that again. I?ll need to forget you if I?m to continue on without you. When you leave again as you tell me you will. It?s not right of me to ask that of Rei. He deserves a Forever too. But I can?t be that for him.

I should have told him from the start. I?m an asshole.

- siempre tuyo

23 de octubre 2014

mi alma,

I remember when you brought her home. You were so happy and I couldn?t share your joy. Children still make me nervous.

You told me - ?You aren?t going to break her, you know. She?s not a china doll.?

My touch is lethal, even when I don?t mean it to be. I ruin people and I read them. Steal glimpses of who they are from their skin. Being anywhere near that little girl disturbed me, and I never really could completely explain to you why.

She?s all that?s left of what you were. That beauty in you that you so rarely let anyone see. The man I love deep down in the core of you. She?s your last fragile connection to all that was and I wouldn?t be able to live with myself were I to ruin it in some way.

I?m so glad you got to see her. I hope she brought you some peace again the way she did before.

I remember - you made me tell her a story.

--

Once upon a time, there was a boy. A stupid, lonely boy who didn?t know anything about anything, not even love.

He was not a frog - he was a porcupine. And he met a little girl who wanted to be a porcupine too, but she couldn?t be. Only porcupines can be porcupines, he told her. They decided instead that she was a kitty. She had the most adorable purr.

The porcupine and the kitty were friends, but the boy had very few other friends. He knew that friends liked to hug each other, and everybody knows that hugging porcupines is dangerous. This is what made him so very lonely.

Not being able to hug his friends made the porcupine mean and bitter, but the kitty liked him anyway. She liked him because she knew how to be smart about hugging him. She was careful, and always managed to avoid his quills.

The kitty helped the porcupine figure out what love is by giving him a friend. And they lived happily ever after.

--

In my mind she will always be that tiny, fragile, trusting little girl who wasn?t afraid of me. I suppose she?s aged now. It was half my lifetime ago when I saw her last.

Does she remember me?

- t?o espigados



__________________
( See also: Bedtime Story for Ana. )

1 de noviembre 2014

mi alma,

Soy asustado.

I don?t like being where I am right now. I don?t like feeling like this.

Last night was horrible. It?s always horrible. I fucking hate Halloween. I hate it. The call and the lure and the enticement of joining the Hunt. It?s there. Always calling to me. Whispering. Promising. Wanting me to be a part of it forever and ever.

I made a cell for myself beneath Matadero. Deep down in the dungeon I haven?t shown you yet. I locked myself in there when I felt it coming. The burn and the rush and the switch flipping that smothered out the man to replace with the monster entirely.

I remember laughing. I remember banging against the walls, clawing at the floors, and trying to tear the door from the hinges. Sometimes I wasn?t alone. What was left of my dropped in visitors was little else but blood and bones this morning.

When the fog cleared and I was in my head again, Skid was there. I wish it would have been you, too. But at least there was one of you. I?m glad for that. I don?t know how long I would have been in there if -

I don?t know if I would?ve locked myself in there at all. And that would have been worse. Maybe I should lock myself in there forever. Maybe that?s where I need to be. Away from all these people who are trying to shape me and mold me into things they want me to be.

I tried to set things right with Roan. I tried to explain to Thorn before that. It doesn?t matter what I say, though. Everything I say or do is wrong and everybody will see me as they want me to be for them anyway. And I -

I can?t win against him.

I can?t and I?m scared for the first time since -

Desde que mi sombra blanca.

Soy asustado. Por favor ven a casa. Te necesito.*

- siempre tuyo


______________________________
( * There is a wet spot on this page, possibly a tear stain. )

( A slip of paper has been tucked into the journal. )

She drew this for you.

http://www.newmanagement.com/tips/png/kcon_porcupine.png

November Fifth


Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.



Mi alma,


Your trouble is in the Fall and mine has always been the Winter, ever since Father died. I admit that I wonder now what will happen. In my absence, everything he left for me is in ruins. Everything he gave me to succeed has been squandered. Does he still whisper in your mother's ear? Time will tell.

I will stay with you through the Autumn because that is as long as I am sure my Lord will not call to me. Past that I have no guarantees, no reassurements. Autumn is when you need me the greatest -- and so I will be here. It is the very least I can do for you, my love. I wish I could do more.

I wish a great many things for you, but those are left for another page and another day.

I have no pack of my own now; I have been borrowing yours. Skid, and even Thorn to an extent. Those who knew me, who understood my machinations and my desires, are absent. I am not the wolf, but I am the hunting cat whose solitude is driven by nature as much as need. But we are still both monsters, both animals, in our own right.

I do not desire a pack again. Not like before. I don't think I can give to them what they will need to survive. I don't feel sadness or pity in this -- only change. I have changed. I am changing. Learning my weaknesses has made me world-wise and weary.

Is this what my Father felt like, when his life was drawn before him in a line?


- siempre



---


careful, close to the edge (you're scaring me)
fall in to my arms (where did it all fall?)

(Written hastily in the margins of the last entry.)





Do you see me trying to be him? No. He was a madman driven willingly apart from his humanity. I would never wish that on myself. But I would be a fool to ignore his lessons and his gifts, as you would be if you ignored your Mother's. Don't mistake my questioning for desire, my love. I would not curse either of us with that burden.

I know you trust me; you simply do not trust the rest of the world and so I ask for your faith in it.

The day you believe I trust in you will be a saint's miracle indeed.

(The following page looks as if tea or coffee has been spilled on it and a cat has walked through it. Some words are legible through the stain.)

http://etc-mysitemyway.s3.amazonaws.com/icons/legacy-previews/icons/black-paint-splatter-icons-animals/011174-black-paint-splatter-icon-animals-paw-prints2.png


You h____________y love. The wa_____how our tru______erent.
I have gi__n you everything________________red to me. I have given you
my na__________ u my soul. I have__________Tohias and I have given
________ai. The rest is trivial to me. ____________________ tasks and
duties. They are nothing a_________________ you i ___s everything. Can't you
se_______________________ rden I have put on you?
Are we both still children?

(same day)


mi alma,

I left.

Shit.

Just after I get done telling you I?m fine and haven?t slipped since Samhain night, I slip.

Fuck fuck fuck.

I?m okay right now. I don?t want you to worry. But I know I left without saying anything and then -

Then I don?t remember what.

I looked at my phone and the time was several hours later than I remember it being. I stepped out of my head while I was with you, and when I stepped back in I was somewhere else.

Fuck.

I guess -

There was more I wanted to say to you today. I wanted to apologize. Did I do that? Did I do it right? I shouldn?t lash out at you like that. I?m sorry.

I worry whenever you start talking about your father. I can?t shake the feeling that after all this time you?re still living in his shadow. Trying to live up to his expectations. Trying to fit the molds he left for you to squeeze into. To wear shoes two sizes too small.

But no. I forget. You mention him when you?re hurting the most, and all I did was twist the knife in deeper.

I?ve been doing a lot of that lately. Not just with you. I never say anything right. Not with my voice nor with my hands.

I don?t know what to ask you. That?s what you said. You said to ask you. But I don?t know what to say. I can?t form the right questions.

So tell me, please. Tell me. Tell me what I don?t understand.

- siempre tuyo

November Seventeenth


Mi alma,


You'll forgive my silence? I have been trying to word your request for days. I do not think I am at the point where I can explain it so fully as to make it clear -- and I wish to do this for you. But the tale is so old that it starts from the very beginning, perhaps even from before Chaus sired me. It pertains to the nature of Ravnos themselves, elements of my person that were not revealed to me until after my Father began to show me what it meant to be kindred -- the good and the bad.

Perhaps I will try again now. I suspect this will be the first of many parts.


Kindred all of weaknesses -- some physical, some mental, others arcane. Fire and sunlight. Mental flaws and ties to the earth, or night time. The Ravnos have a weakness that is just as dangerous: we all have a vice that we cannot deny. An obsession. Something in our very nature that ties us to what we are.

For my Father, he was obsessed with power. It's what drove him made. If he saw the opportunity to snatch power from something or someone, he had to make a grab at it. It served him well for many years -- you saw how well he controlled the underground in his highest moments -- but it's also what broke him apart, and what frightened him. It's why he put part of his power into you, I think. The last bit of his fear for something other than himself fettered away.

Or maybe I think too kindly of him in my old age.

Bastion's vice was knowledge, I think. You saw his libraries, his vast wealth of information. If I needed to know something and Bastion did not know it, it didn't exist. When I came back here and went to Ambrosio, it was stripped of every piece of information -- every receipt, every scrap of a note, every paper. He kept it all when he left, and who knows where he went. Apparently he learned everything he needed to about me and about Father.

It took me a long time to realize what my weakness was. It took years of examining my history to see the faults -- but I think I understand now.

My weakness is risks.

I love them. I love making deals and wheedling my way through. I love finding the twisting avenues of escape and turning them on someone else. I love the risk of other people, of what may come with them -- that's why I was drawn to you, you know. You were a risk. You were a chance of so many things that could happen to you, and I needed to know what. I needed to be a part of it. It could have ended terribly for me. You could have killed me. We could have killed each other. Perhaps we are, in our own ways.


But you are the best thing my nature has brought to me. And for all the mistakes I've made -- this is why I am still thankful.


- siempre




--





and the first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hand
like the trembling heart of a captive bird

1 de diciembre 2014

mi alma,

Days have passed since last I?ve seen you. I asked if you were home or going away again. You said ?home,? but I have seen so very little of you. I have only myself to blame.

I?ve found myself swept up in moments without you in them. Moments that left me both elated and distressed at the same time.

Distressed because in the stillness and quiet in between, when I?m alone again as I am now, I remember to miss you. I only just got you back, but I feel like I?m losing you again.

I?m glad I could give you one day of happiness. One day of feeling at home again. I?m sorry I haven?t been able to give you more days like it since.

It?s December now. The end of Autumn is drawing near. Twenty days until the Solstice. Twenty days until I fear I?ll lose you again. You only promised me the Autumn and I haven?t given you enough of what little time is left.

I miss you, mi alma. Even if you were here right now sitting across from me while I was writing this, I know I?d still be missing you. Every time I see you I?m stricken with equal parts joy and sadness. Every time I see you it?s a reminder that you?re going to leave again.

The only promise you ever keep is that you can never stay.

But that?s all right. I?m not alone anymore. And I found I can be happy without you.

Aunque me haces falta todav?a.

- siempre tuyo

(Pen marks linger on the top of the page as if the sentence has been started and stopped again several times.)









Mi alma,


You have said that you will love me always. I have never doubted that and never will. But what if the 'me' changes?

I have been trying to remain grounded. It is difficult. The winter has always been my discontent, but this is different somehow. It is as if I am only awake when I am with you, and the rest is a dream. Inconsequential and fleeting.

Perhaps that is not so dark a thing after all.


- siempre






---





fate seemed to pull the strings
i turned and you were gone
while from the darkened wing
the music box played on, and on

January Eighth





Mi alma,

You still deserve the rest of the story and I can do little more than keep my word.

When I first became kindred -- when I was done being a whore and wished to build my own world -- I was offered a boon in return for three jobs completed by a woman named Starla. Being young and foolish and cocky, I agreed. I signed it in blood without understanding the consequences. Ambrose never bothered explaining to me; only Bastian did, years later, after Starla came to seek the first of her jobs completed.

The first one came years ago and I thought little of it. A shipment to be collected and delivered from some foreign country to Rhy'din. I had Marcus handle it. The shipment ended up being a boat crammed with slaves, bound for the Temple of Le'Krysh, which Marcus had only recently rescued Sophie from. That is when I truly lost Marcus, and when I began to understand that Starla was more than she seemed. There was no way for me to refuse my deal without death -- not from her hand, but from my own. I could not deny her or my blood would betray me.

The second job came more recently -- last year. I was in Rhy'din and I looked for you, but never saw you. In retrospect, I suspect you were out looking for me as well and we missed each other. The job seemed very similar to the last: a shipment to be brought in, delivered to Rhy'din and Le'Krysh. This time I looked into more thoroughly. I discovered I knew the mercenary captain -- the woman Eleanor, whose body was no longer her own. I remembered seeing Ali's face when he spoke of her and I couldn't kill her.

Through a long and winding trail of contacts, I had someone hired to wreck their ship on the coast and lead Ali and MacKurn to her. The slaves were lost, and though I did try to collect them, it was not enough for Starla. I don't know what became of Eleanor, or even Ali, but I knew they were alive and it was all I needed.

A month later Starla came to me in person with the man who would become my Lord.

In the failing of my second task, it bound my time to both of them. They are -- not mortal, not men. Maybe gods. Close to it. They bore a daughter into this world who terrifies me more in her potential than most I have met, and she is still young. Guard her, they told me. Train her. Protect her until the day we see fit to release you, and answer to the call of your Lord and his daughter, his Serena.

And so I do, because the second failure would result in death and I chose life. I have been searching for a years for a way out, but found nothing. My blood is my undoing. I was a fool.

I still am, I suppose, in different ways.

I promised you the story and now it is yours. The rest before me is an empty path into the dark.






I did not get the opportunity to tell you, but I spent some time speaking with Cane last night at length. He struggles, but his heart is genuine; I knew it was since it had drawn you to him, but it is still good to see such a thing myself. I offered him the same thing I offered Rei months ago: unimpeded honesty for whatever he wished to ask.

I hope he is able to hold true to himself.






- siempre





--





i know you like adam knew eve
every tear you cry is a tear that i will bleed
oh, and i will bleed

(The following is not an additional entry so much as an edit of the previous one. A specific passage is circled and three words written in a different handwriting along the page beside it, as shown below.)

http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh9/ehzoterik/rp/theruare.png

24 de enero 2015

mi alma,

I find myself content in a way I have not been in years. Maybe in a way I have never been before. I cannot remember ever feeling quite so at peace.

Feeling this way, however, also leaves me conflicted. I don?t think I should be -

Happy. I am happy.

My Italian was always asking me if I was happy. It seemed so very important to him that I be. I got swept up in him much as I did in Rei. Without you here I think I was looking for something to consume me.

Someone.

I failed with both of them - and yet I feel no remorse for losing them. That must make me a terrible person. A terrible man. I am glad for what they gave me but I am not sad that they are gone.

In all the time that you were gone I was sad.

The last time I saw Rei I did feel sad. Not for me, though. I feel sad for him. For having fallen so deeply in love with me - the fool. He excited me in so many ways, and I did - I do love him. Not enough, though. Not as strongly as he wanted me to.

His leaving me did not wound me as deeply as your absence did. As much as you burning down our house did.

I go back there sometimes. All the memories are gone from the foundations because of the fire, but they live on inside me.

We were happy once, weren?t we?

Are you happy? Would you tell me if you were not?

Te amo, mi alma.

- siempre tuyo

7 de marzo 2015

mi alma,

I?ve spent a long time thinking about your question. An entire month has come and gone. Some people would say this is too long, but you know me. I forget what time is frequently. I wouldn?t have known any had passed at all were it not for my habit of dating my words to you.

I still don?t have an answer for you. A part of me wishes I did, but then I remember not to wish because wishes are dangerous and don?t always give us what we want, and you never know who might be listening in with designs to grant them.

I don?t know.

Your question isn?t a fair one. You took mine to you, twisted it around, and turned it back on me. I think I see the intent of the reflection you are showing me. I suppose my question isn?t a fair one either.

But I worry.

I hold my breath and close my eyes expecting you not to be there when I open them again and remember to breathe.

And I-

I?m sure you have similar worries.

It?s enough that I still love you, isn?t it? That?s what you told me. All that matters is I love you. That?s all you require. Those were your words.

And I believe you.

Because to me you do not lie. I know the man who hides behind the mask that everybody else sees, and he is not a liar. Not to me. He is love, and he is beautiful. Painfully beautiful.

I think of that, and I remember. The first time we really kissed. The first time we made love. So many firsts you shared with me in which your second skin, the liar?s armor that you wear, peeled away and you were raw beneath my hands.

How many times have I clawed at your exposed nerves, my love? And you mine. We are harmful to each other as much as we are kind, but-

We have time. We have forever. We have love.

Siempre he amado y te amar? siempre hasta el fin de los tiempos.

And if that is enough, then yes. I think we are happy.

- siempre tuyo

May Eighth


Mi alma,

I feel the dread of winter crawling off my limbs. I feel the weight of memory retreating. It has been spring for some weeks now, but the warmth seemed absent. Today I opened the windows of my (our) apartment and felt the heat of the sun on my skin. Were I the sort of kindred that expired in the daylight, I expect I would have been dead many years ago. I cannot do without it. Perhaps it's whatever piece of me that's still human.

But more than the daylight hours, more than the sticky-warm heat and the life that blooms and crawls through the streets, there is the night. And it feels like my night again. My town, my place. My risks. Mine. I am a greedy, covetous creature, a snake that crawls through the night-time of Rhy'din and it makes me feel alive.

The shadows call, mi alma. Will you come?



- siempre

31 de mayo 2015

mi alma,

Lately I have found myself conflicted.

This morning, before I came to be with you, and the night before, I spoke with Canaan about it. Or at least I tried to. You know how terrible I am with words when I try to make them from my mouth.

Pen to paper. This is easier. I think it is anyway. The thoughts flow more freely through ink than empty air.

I did not want to come. These days are beginning to feel like a chore, taking me away from all I would much rather do. They feel as something forced.

I'm fighting to hold onto things that were. My world with you is a rock that never moves. You are solid and real and ever unchanging.

I am changing.

You were my world once. Now I think you are only a small part of it. A shadow and a memory of what was. Something I've wanted to so fiercely hold onto, but now feel I can only open my hands and let drift away into the breeze.

Things have not been the same between us since you went missing, nor since you returned. There's still this jagged edge in the seams. It's not that I don't know who you are anymore. It's that I'm becoming someone else.

I laugh more. I live more. I smile more. I love more.

And it seems I am doing all of this without you.

me haces falta - nos echo

te amo todav?a

- siempre tuyo

September Twenty-First



Your kiss is air. I have breathed again.



You are most beautiful when you are in love, I've found. It doesn't happen to matter if it's with me or another. But my god, do you shine like a flame -- intoxicatingly bright and perfect. Perhaps I am bias. I have seen your face turned to mine in love, but never another -- not to such a degree. It is like seeing you from an entirely new angle as you've lifted your face toward the sun. I have grown grateful for it. That, and other things.


The other things I will have to show you myself.

you
leave me
words

you
leave me
wanting

I
forget

I
remember

I
fall

it's hard to
find the words
that stay

stay
stay
stay

13 de octubre 2015

mi alma,

I spent the night re-reading all the words we?ve written to each other on these pages. I had the time for it. As you know, I don?t sleep. Except for the nights my Cajun drains me and feeds me a potion of his own design. How did I survive without him?

I know. I ran away from it before. Maybe my hiding out at Peluche?s tonight is another form of running. Toward or away from, I can?t decide.

For a while I played chess with his son. Did you know he has a son? A daughter too. Most people don?t know and are always surprised when they find out. Have you met them? You should. These are children I don?t dislike so much.

I kind of envy them, actually. Like me they grew fast, but they haven?t forgotten how to be children. They smile. They laugh. They play. I?m only learning to do these things now, long past time.

I hope you and Cane enjoyed yourselves. I?m glad he has someone to share music with who actually knows what he?s doing instead of teaching wanting girls how to turn marks into sounds.

It?s been a long time since I?ve heard you play.

I?m a bit envious of that, too, I admit. Hearing the echo of you two together from touching the walls will not be at all the same as being there to hear you at the time. That?s if I decide to look back and listen.

Did you let the real you shine through for him like your ghost did for me, once upon a time? Or did you keep that part of yourself hidden and secret, like you do all things?

Me haces falta. Te amo.

- siempre tuyo


ps: Skid drew you this *


_______________________________________________
( *Inserted between the pages of this entry is a folded piece of paper containing a crudely drawn image followed by a message done in an entirely different handwriting reading: ?The cat crows at midnight. I await thee in the lettuce patch. This night, we make merriment.? )

January Second


Feliz a?o nuevo, mi alma. May it be everything you wish it to be.


I miss you too, my love.


I must confess to you, I have been courting an edge of loneliness of which I suspect I can't entirely avoid the precipice of. I know it's partially of my own design -- I don't know if I've found a place in my own new life yet -- but I expect some of it can be blamed on the winter. This season has never treated me well, and I think this is the first time I have stepped into it on my own. Part of that is frightening, and another part is exhilarated by the danger of the unknown. I've not been this independent in many, many years. Since before I met you. Since before Rojo, and Tir.

Since before my Father, I suppose.



I have been feeling strange sense yesterday and I can't explain why. It's even more difficult to explain without being able to fully put my thumb on what that feeling is. It's.. neither bad nor good, but it's like a distant star has been snuffed. An absence that comes without relief, or concern because it's too far apart to have value. Does that make sense? I've no other way to parse it.

I don't know if I've told you this, but a few months ago I went to a whorehouse. I had an itch that I was unable to scratch and it occurred to me that I used to fucking make a living that way, so why not support someone else? The unexpected result is that I see him with some regularity now, and I have grown somewhat fond of him. I'm not sure to what ends -- I think he is hovering on the edge of keeping his business and pleasure separate -- but it's strange and gratifying finding relief in the unfamiliar.

And the familiar.

I expect by now you've found Cane covered in glitter. It was worth every fucking second of him glaring at me, I promise you. As a peace offering, I'm making you and Taneth all breakfast tomorrow morning now that you can eat again. It's been awhile since I made you a meal. I would be lying if I said it didn't please me.


Te amo, mi alma. Siempre. May this year carry us forward.


- siempre

06 de enero 2016

mi alma,

?Ours is a strange relationship - I like it.?

These are your words and they echo inside of me, forever and always. You think so much has changed, but that has not. We will never be what the rest of the world classifies as normal, and I am glad for that. I never want to be normal.

Long ago, you helped me embrace my differences. You found me caught in the nets of normal, being tugged on all sides by people trying to shape me and mold me into being what they imagined I should be. Instead of looking inside at my monster and shunning it, you embraced it. You were the first to love the whole of me.

All the kindness and tolerance you showed me, I show now to others. I?ve learned to love people as they are, not as I think they should be, because of you. I?ve also learned to dislike people as they are, and that?s okay too. I don?t have to love everybody, and everybody doesn?t have to love me. It would be nice if the rest of the world could exist this way.

The struggle to be normal is almost painful to watch. It?s amusing in some. Why do so many insist on creating this perfect, magical connection with a singular being? How do they learn to believe that they are not whole people themselves and need to bond with another in order to be complete?

I knew loneliness, but I did not let it ruin me. I felt lost and empty without you, but I continued on. I found my way. I remembered all that I learned from you, all that you taught me, and used it to create my own empire. It isn?t much, not yet, but it is mine, and it will grow.

I have no aspirations to conquer the world. I?m not even sure I really want to leave my mark on it, as people say. I?m not concerned with being remembered or making a change. All I want is to live, as I am. To live and love and be loved. I ask only for what?s simple.

?My decades, if I have any at all, will not be your decades, amante.?

These were my words. I hear myself saying them from long ago as clearly as if I am saying them now today. And I hear you, saying:

"Of course not. But there will be laughter and love. Different, yes. They will not be mine. They will be your own."

Your voice spills prophecy. Did you know that?

Te amo, mi alma. Siempre y siempre.

- siempre tuyo

11 de enero 2016

mi alma,

Do you still find the sea soothing? I do. The hush and sigh of ocean waves lapping against the shore still brings me great clarity and peace of mind. Even to this day, when I am at my worst, I find myself returning there to listen. I never leave dissatisfied.

How many houses have you burned along the shore? I remember at least one before ours. All of them destroyed in fits of sorrow and outrage. I still feel the sting of your anger. Sometimes I run past our old place. I?ve worn a groove in the sands with my habits and find it impossible to avoid seeing the charred skeleton of our life that was. I can?t bring myself to avoid it altogether.

You?ve always strived to make for us a place that is solely ours. We made a home once. Mostly it was yours and partly it was mine. From time to time we had guests. Rekah being our most permanent, despite the fact that she was hardly ever there.

Before that I shadowed all your other living places. Apartment after apartment after apartment. Once or twice a house on the sea. You told me so much of yourself beside oceanfront campfires. The first time I ever let you have me was in the sand. Your soul was a pearl that I held in my hand.

If you still find the seaside peaceful, I have an idea. Will you walk with me tonight along the shore? Will you come with me through our memories? I think we?ll discover that there are more of them that are pleasant than they are painful.

Tonight, I am yours, mi alma. If you will have me.

Te amo siempre.

- siempre tuyo

24 de enero 2016

mi alma,

I?m leaving tonight - for a while.

We?ll be back before the spring.

Te amo mucho.

Don?t forget.

- siempre tuyo

(Several scraps of old paper have been inserted among many of the pages. Some of the words have been underline in fresher ink.)





I will remember this:

I want to make you happy with everything I do. I want to make the right choices -- for me, and for you. I want to treat you well, to treat you like you've always treated me -- all the time. I want you to be happy, and know I love you until we both reach the end of our days and into the next life. I can't promise I'll always be able to. But I promise, by my Father and by my name and yours -- I will always try for you. I will always listen. And I will learn.

You were right when you told me that I can't always be the jester. Sometimes I need to be the King; sometimes I need to know, to feel, and to think. Look before I leap, and go the distance without falling, without failure.




--


Ah, my love. I am not so selfish to believe I am the only one who matters. I am lucky; I understand you as well as I do because you have given yourself to me in turn. You have opened yourself up to me, in quiet, private moments, in the still of night and height of winter's dark. With others, you have not been so gracious. You tuck yourself away behind surly stoicism and pretend you are someone else. You are afraid to open up -- and it is an understandable fear. There has been cruelty and misunderstanding. There has been loss. But I am not the only one worthy of knowing who you are, and cherishing that. There are others, perhaps more worthy than I, who deserve a second chance.


--

This isn't about trust. This is about faith.

How can I? I've lost you once. I lost you and I went mad. We talk about insanity, we talk about growing -- I haven't grown. I haven't grown any. I still need you. It's so childish, so fucking selfish of me. You were right when you called me selfish. That's all I am. It's all I ever was.

But I can't tell you not to. I can't. This is your life. I can't control it. I have trust in your decisions. I do. I have to.




God. Fuck.


I'm so stupid.



--


Being at balance with yourself doesn't really stop the struggle. Simply existing defies a very part of myself -- and while most of the time I can deal with that, and have come to terms with accepting that, sometimes I can't help but look in the mirror and wonder. Wonder where I went, and if I went wrong. I never really have an answer either.

Where does the balance begin? Where does being a kindred start and humanity end? Humanity isn't the right word either. I've always disliked that term. It gives the sense that humans are better, some how -- morally better, the superior race, and inclined to being moral as well. But that isn't right. Humans are unkind. They can be cold and cruel and heartless -- moreso than the dead which I have willingly walked amongst for so long now.

But in the same end, I am not inclined to morality. That's not what it's about. I.. guess I really can't put into words what it means. I suppose the best way to phrase it is mortal. Humans are such short-lived creatures. They are a candle flicker in the night that you see once and are gone. It sounds cruel, it sounds hard, but those who live a mortal life have adapted so well that they hardly even consider that there are other creature that may live hundreds or thousands of years. They learn to savor each breath they take -- maybe unconsciously -- and in so short a time.

There has to be a balance to that. To savoring life -- to remembering why that life is important and not to toy with it so idly.



---


She was wrong.

I take comfort in the fact, always, knowing that she was wrong.

And here I am, my heart with yours, and here we are, like ghosts the pass in the night. Ships with tall sails that you can barely see in the fog.

I could have kissed you all night. All night, without a single moment of hesitation or desire for more. I could have laid there with your lips against mine over, and over again until dawn came and we looked to the east. I could have whispered those two words, drawn them onto your skin with my fingertip while you slept, until every part of you was touched by them: te amo, te amo. My beautiful hunter. My keeper of the soul. My boy.



--


Strange whispers in the night this evening-- very strange indeed. Things I haven't heard in years, or longer.


Everything I write is for you, you said. Or maybe your mother told me-- or did I read it? I don't recall. My memory is scattered like sand tonight. But I am beginning to think I am writing for more than myself-- playing, painting, wandering, dancing for much more than myself. I am doing all this for who you are-- for who I was-- and who we are both meant to be.


This is not our final destinations. I don't know if you see it yet, but I do-- I do. You may try and trick yourself to think this is the end of your transformations, but I know better. I can see what you can't, just as you can see things I never will. Things I've craved to see and understand. If only we could trade places for awhile--


Alma, you said. Alma. Heh. Someone else called me that once, but I don't think he meant it. Or if he did, he didn't understand it. Then again.. how can you mean something without understanding it?

February Third


mi alma,


The tree is taller than I remember and the heart within it seems different. I cannot entirely pin myself upon the reason why, no matter how long I fixated myself on it. I could not tell you how long I spent looking at it and dedicating its shape to my memory. The image of it that I bear on my skin has changed through time and injury -- the ink is warped, and only those who know the shape of its intent may recognize it for what it is. You, your mother. Cane, if you've brought him there, and I have no doubts that you have.


I should tell you that I went to go see my Father's grave, but I don't wish you to grow too concerned. Yes, I am troubled -- when am I not? -- but I do not feel so lost as to descend into madness. I admit that I feel more comfort in monster than I do in man lately, and I find myself more easily letting the kindred come out and occupy my winter hours, but to restrain that part of myself -- to now let myself vent the aggressions that have built within me -- would likely mean much worse. Sinjin is just as much a part of Tohias as the inverse.


I have not been sleeping well, or at all on some days. Tempest returned to me, and against my better judgment, I let him back in. I know it is a mistake. I know the patterns of what will happen from here -- good god, I've seen them all before -- but loneliness is a weakness which I must bend a knee to. Your brother, who knows me too well, thinks that I must temper my desire to guard and protect and nurture in those who I seek as a partner. That I must instead find an equal. And to look back at the litany of my loves, that has always been the case -- Tir, Augustine, Nineveh, and you. All those who I wanted to shield and nourish and watch grow. Mesteno is not wrong about my predilections, and its flaw, but I am not sure it is a part of myself I can break.


And what is an equal when my opinion of myself is so ravaged? It seems that only those few who I count as old friends seem to see a piece of myself that I am currently unable to recognize. Mesteno has more than once mentioned my natural appeal and the ability I have to woo whoever I please, but I find the insinuation incredulous at best. That was a Sinjin Fai that had much more confidence, much more of an anchor in himself and his life, then our current incarnation.


I fear, sometimes, that you might grow tired of the honesty about my unhappiness. I know that you and I are linked, and that my displeasure is linked to your own -- that you are greatly effected by the happiness of your lovers. It is not an unhappiness that reflects on you, or us; it is one of myself alone. I don't wish to hide it from you -- you have always craved my honesty, told me I was trying to protect you from myself too much -- but I don't wish to bind you to my misery either. What is the balance? Is there one at all?


I am unsure. Balance has been a difficult word as of late.


I have almost finished stripping the first house of any recyclable material. I had to pause more than once -- the weather has not been cooperating with my need to move forward -- but I suspect the task will be complete by the end of the week. There is less that we could use to build than I suspected, but soon that house will not be a scar on the shore any longer. By this summer it will only be sand and those who walk across it will never know.


Then it's on to the House of Ash. I shall look for anything there that is worth saving -- the good memories, the warm ones, the parts of our lives that are worth keeping -- and I will bring you anything that might be of interest to you.


I hope your trip is going well. I don't know if it was for good reasons, or dangerous ones, or anything else, but -- whatever it is, I hope it goes well.



- siempre

February Twelfth






How much of me will you sacrifice without my consent, Salvador?


How much of me will you give away to better the bonds of your love?






Did you read the letter she penned for me, or is it only my secrets that you treat like an open book? The words she left for me are dismal at best. I do not know if you are still in Madrid, but I will go there in a few days time to settle the matter with her mother. These are issues for her parents to attend to, not her bastard uncle.







I trust Cane. I trust him. But that piece of my life was not yours to give.

26 de febrero 2016

mi alma,

I understand that you are hurting. What I don?t understand is how you came to be this way. Everything was fine. We were fine. I thought we were actually okay before I left. Not playing pretend like we do and assuring each other we?re fine when we?re not. I thought we were really, really fine.

Then while I was gone you filled these pages with sorrow. I don?t know where it?s coming from. I can only feel that it?s my fault. We don?t spend as much time together as we used to. We have no place to call our own. No home that is ours and only ours.

The words you spoke to me a year ago haunt me. You told me you felt as if you?d been given up on. I don?t know how else to reassure you otherwise. I am here. I?m always here. I can?t give up on you. You know I can?t. I love you. I?ll always love you. You told me it was enough and you required nothing more of me, but your words in these pages tell me otherwise.

Your words make me feel as if I?m to blame for your loneliness. It?s my fault you?re not happy. Without me you can?t be happy, but I can?t make you happy either. Someone else told me you have to be able to make yourself happy before anyone else can. All I can do is wait for you to find it, your happiness, and it hurts to know that I?m not part of it. I only cause you misery.

I can?t see you. Your words cut too deep. They made me feel small, insignificant. I feel like you are talking still to the boy you knew years ago when we first met and not the man that I?ve become. I don?t think you see what I am, only what I was. And I know that if I see you all the layers of my growth will fall away, leaving behind only the boy you knew. Crying and begging your forgiveness for the pain I?ve caused you. I don?t want to be that.

I think you need me more than I need you. You told me love is enough, but I don?t think you meant it. My loving you is not enough. I wish it was. I wish that I could give you more. The only way I can do that is to give up on everything else. Everyone else. But I can?t do that. I can only be - and love you still.

- siempre


ps: Fix you first. Only you
can do that. I can?t.

I will never stop loving you.

No matter how much your words may wound me,
that will never change.

Siempre, mi alma. Siempre voy a amarte.

Te amo mucho.