02-13-2019, 12:51 AM
[align=center]
8th Entry. Frozen Gold
tw: n/a
I'm feeling a tad melancholy today, to be completely frank about it. I am confused and scared, but mostly sad when it comes down to it. I feel like wanderlust has taken me, the itch to run and never look back, but now I am attached to a place and to the people and I know I need to stay here for Claire and her puppies.
The sunrise today was beautiful; a sea of red-gold snow shone in the light, sparkling like it'd been covered in glitter. I watched Jeremiah play with a few of the Lodge's dogs in the snow, all of them without a care in the world, and I felt okay. And now I'm scared, because I don't know if I want this. I know that I could sit back and repeat this morning a hundred times and I'd never grow tired of it, and yet the idea makes my skin crawl.
I know why this feels wrong, and I know it shouldn't. I should be happy for this chance to settle down with friends and family and watch the Lodge grow and flourish. But on occasion it feels like I can't breath in there, and I know I push myself much too hard to bolster my self worth. The idea of never waking up to complete silence, bathed in the sharp cold mountain air, with only myself and my companions; the idea of never having that again, well, it frightens me.
Perhaps... Perhaps in the spring, I'll go for a small trip to clear my head. Bring along only those who I can't bear to leave behind. I won't need to leave forever, but it might be necessary if I'm ever to calm down to life here.
...I wonder if any of the other Lodgers would want to accompany me on such a trip? I doubt it, but perhaps when it's warm enough to leave I'll extend the invitation to those who I've grown fond of.
tw: n/a
I'm feeling a tad melancholy today, to be completely frank about it. I am confused and scared, but mostly sad when it comes down to it. I feel like wanderlust has taken me, the itch to run and never look back, but now I am attached to a place and to the people and I know I need to stay here for Claire and her puppies.
The sunrise today was beautiful; a sea of red-gold snow shone in the light, sparkling like it'd been covered in glitter. I watched Jeremiah play with a few of the Lodge's dogs in the snow, all of them without a care in the world, and I felt okay. And now I'm scared, because I don't know if I want this. I know that I could sit back and repeat this morning a hundred times and I'd never grow tired of it, and yet the idea makes my skin crawl.
I know why this feels wrong, and I know it shouldn't. I should be happy for this chance to settle down with friends and family and watch the Lodge grow and flourish. But on occasion it feels like I can't breath in there, and I know I push myself much too hard to bolster my self worth. The idea of never waking up to complete silence, bathed in the sharp cold mountain air, with only myself and my companions; the idea of never having that again, well, it frightens me.
Perhaps... Perhaps in the spring, I'll go for a small trip to clear my head. Bring along only those who I can't bear to leave behind. I won't need to leave forever, but it might be necessary if I'm ever to calm down to life here.
...I wonder if any of the other Lodgers would want to accompany me on such a trip? I doubt it, but perhaps when it's warm enough to leave I'll extend the invitation to those who I've grown fond of.
'cus it don't make a difference anyway
tags - 26yrs - 6'1 - he/him - representative of fl
tags - 26yrs - 6'1 - he/him - representative of fl
text