Found:
My mood has been so up and down lately. What is wrong with me? I've been so terribly inconsistent that even I don't know how I'm going to feel from one moment to the next. What is that? Why is that?
I try to hide it as best I can, of course. It's easier with some than it is with others. I retreat to the solitude of my little prison in the tavern just to get away from it all. I retreated to a hilltop which didn't help matters. I came back to find Loakee gone. I can't decide if that's a good thing or not.
Dammit!
Instead, I found Neyaa. Or rather she found me. She thought I'd long since left town and, as it turns out, she's been avoiding the White Wolf and her lover of late. That probably is for the best. The road he wants to lead her down, the destruction it promises... I dread to think what it will do to her. But for good or ill, it is her heart, her choice, her path. I can only watch, advise where asked and offer support where needed. Isn't that what friends do?
It is, right? I've never been sure...
She didn't really want to talk about that situation. I didn't press. She'll speak when she's ready and I will be there to listen. Instead, I let her guide the conversation; telling the story of Yarassi at her askance and giving my thoughts on Loakee and Baldvin.
As ever, she was quite astute in her observations.
You should enjoy your time with him, she told me. And I intend to.
Not as I used to. I'm not that woman anymore. Not really. I can't bring myself to use him for fleeting satisfaction and be gone by morning. Maybe I should? Maybe that would make it all that much easier...
But I won't. I know I won't. I've had several opportunities to do just that and I have given up each one, keeping my distance, refraining where I would have once just jumped in without thought for reaction or consequence.
When I look at him, I told her, I see myself five years ago. I see a man who wants love, but mistakes attention for it. I see a man who, deep down, wants something more but is either unable or unwilling to commit. I see a man who uses humour as a shield, hiding his hurt behind a dazzling smile and a ready laugh. But I don't know how much of this is just me projecting my own experiences and unsettled state onto him and how much of it is really there.
I should stay away from him. I should refuse further lessons and release him from our deal. I should slip away from here, from this place of bittersweet memories and dull, drab browns. I should leave him in peace to find what he will, to find what he wants. Goodness knows Owena is younger than me, generous to a fault, talented, pretty and she wears dresses. She likes taking care of him and he, if he is to be believed, very much likes being taken care of. A perfect match and sure to blossom without my pernicious presence.
But for Neyaa's sake, I must stay. And he does make me laugh, something which I have sorely needed of late. If I continue as before, if I enjoy his company yet keep my distance, everything will work out well, won't it?
It has to. I can't hide in my room forever.
