I swear the old adage is true. If my head weren't securely attached, it'd be lost and rolled into a ditch somewhere.
I wanted to talk a bit about the doctor, Raven. I've so enjoyed the conversations we've shared recently. He's been so open with me, and shared so much of his past and his present struggles, and the faith he's placed in me to hear such things has really warmed my heart. I still will not share the details, not even here in my journal, out of an abundance of caution on his behalf.
But yesterday afternoon, he approached me in the Pony. I was sitting alone, and I must have looked rather haggard and given him cause for concern. I certainly have been feeling haggard, since my "escape" the other morning, so I'm not surprised if it showed on my face. I reassured him that I was all right, and he confessed that he knew where I'd been, and had even gone with my beloved that night to try and find me. I was so deeply touched to hear this. To know that he cared that much.
I then asked him in turn, how he was doing, and he related that he was still struggling with certain things. We began to talk, but the common room was a bit crowded, so we retired to the fireplace in the back hallway for more privacy. I was quite surprised by what he told me; surprised and oddly delighted. I felt almost guilty to feel happiness about it. Why should it make me happy to hear that he's...more like myself, I suppose? But he wasn't offended by my reaction. I've seen him be very short and irritable at times, but never towards me, bless his heart. And then he confessed something that left me speechless. Ironic that I'm writing about a conversation that took place, but I can't talk about what was said! Well, I could, but...one cannot be too careful. Even private diaries can be found and read. And Raven has told me that some of the things he's confided in me are matters of life and death, should people discover them.
