I Suppose There Will Never Be A

The Funeral Is A Quiet One, Despite The Number Of Mourners Present. There Are No Sobs Or Flailing Handkerchiefs. There Is A Smattering Of Color Amongst The Sea Of Traditional Black. Even The Light Rain Cannot Push It Down Into The Realms Of Despair. It Rests Instead In A Space Of Thoughtful Melancholy.

I Am Tired Of Trying To Hold Things Together That Cannot Be Held. Trying To Control What Cannot Be Controlled. I Am Tired Of Denying Myself What I Want For Fear Of Breaking Things I Cannot Fix. They Will Break No Matter What We Do.

He Remembers When He Was Very Small His Mother Once Said She Wished Happiness And Adventure For Him. If This Does Not Count As Adventure, He Is Not Sure What Does.

Most Maidens Are Perfectly Capable Of Rescuing Themselves In My Experience, At Least The Ones Worth Something, In Any Case.

I Have Read For Countless People On Innumerable Subjects And The Most Difficult Thing To Understand Within The Cards Is Always The Timing. I Knew That, And Still It Surprised Me. How Long I Was Willing To Wait For Something That Was Only A Possibility. I Always Thought It Was Just A Matter Of Time But I Was Wrong.