Found:
Upon reaching Bree this morning, I suddenly remembered that I had yet to make good on a promise made several months ago. Julyah, the lovely little painter, had once invited me to view her gallery and I had said that I would. There being no time like the present, I decided to do just that!
My, but her collection of odds and ends is intriguing to say the least. And her paintings! Goodness, but that girl has true talent! She even managed to make Gerlof look handsome.
Alas, she is alone and fearful. Her lover, a travelling man, is away for the moment and she suffers for his absence. Given what she told me of recent events, I think she is scared - for herself without his protection, and for him whilst he is gone. I told her that she may send word to me at any time, day or night, and I would find her. How could I do anything else?
Still, it was a surprise to learn that her lover is a man I once knew. Well, hardly knew. Our association was brief and not exactly what one would call of a personal nature. She spoke of her desire to marry and of his refusal through fear that he would hurt her...
And I... I could not help seeing the similarities between us. I know that fear. I feel it every time I get close to someone. I feel it every time there is even the possibility of such. I fled from it for decades, never allowing anyone to be more than a single nights' amusement. Sometimes I fight it - as with Eordion, as with Rhaug - and I end up doing more harm to them than I would have had I simply disappeared into the night. I can't tell if it is because of it or in spite of it. I can only be sure of the result. So, I push people away. I prevent them from coming to harm through my influence - as I did with Eordion, as I should have done with Rowan, as I am doing with Loakee.
Stay back. Don't let them in. Don't get close. They are moths and you are flame. You will burn them no matter how hard you try to do otherwise. You are poison, Silver.
I still fear that the same will become of Neyaa, of Taala, of Eroforth. Anyone I come to call friend. Anyone I come to care for. Not just lovers. Anyone. It is crippling. It feeds and reinforces the loneliness, keeping me away but making me want to connect all the more. And the more I give in to the notion of connecting with someone, the more I fear, so the more I push or run or give into self-destructive impulses until all that I had feared becomes true. A never-ending vicious, self-fulfilling, prophesy.
"How can I help him? What would help you?"
How do I answer that? How can I know? I don't know the root of his inner-shadows. We never spoke on such things. We were never close enough for that. All I can do is guess that, perhaps, patience, understanding and reassurance will soothe his troubled mind. Eventually. Would that work for me? Maybe.
"I'm a terrible person," I told Loakee.
"Were I you, I'd warn him away from me," I told Baldvin.
I barely know either man, and neither can claim to know me, but there it was. There I go pushing before even the vaguest hint of friendship is shown, never mind anything more! Better this way, right? Safer. For them and for me. Yet... I keep seeing the former. I'm taking lessons from him...
Proof positive that I am, when all is said and done, a selfish woman. Hah! See, Loakee? I wasn't lying!
So, how does one break this cycle?
Should I even try?
If all evidence says that you are correct to fear, but that evidence is sometimes questionable, are you correct? Should you question more and run the risk of being right? Or question less and be proven right anyway?
I don't want to hurt anyone.
