Well, with the encouragement of my mother I have come to New York City to get my art career moving. I've always loved to paint and sculpt - and well just about anything creative. Sean and I even used to paint along side each other on rainy afternoons. Sean always hated the things he did, but I loved them and kept them to hang on the walls of my flat. He often liked lighter subject matter like landscapes and sailboats at sea, while my paintings could often be very dark and full of emotions I never knew existed in me.
If I get lucky someone will like my work and I can reside here in New York indefinitely. I can't help feeling like this is where I am supposed to be right now.
My Gran is gone. She passed quietly this afternoon in her sleep. I can't put anything into words - I can't think at all. She was my strength. She raised me and taught me all I know. What will I do now? How will Mum and I ever get along without her to guide us? I want to scream! I can't talk now. I need to cry or cut my flesh open to make the pain inside hurt less - I can't do this now. I can't....
Gran seems to be deteriorating daily. I try to keep a smile on my face for her, but I am just so terrified. Watching Sean die was devastating, but at least it was quick. My once strong grandmother is now as weak as a newborn child. My mother is a wreck and I hate to see her in that state. These two women are all I have left in this world. I wish Gran could take along a friend when she passes on. How much more can I lose? At least I will have the Solstice with Sean. He can always make me smile.
I don't know why I have bothered to add anything to this decaying journal, but there are times when I feel so alone it is the only thing I can talk to. Anyway, I am leaving London. My relationship ended rather poorly some time ago. She changed after a few months and her possessive nature became too much to bear. Yes, I said she. Gender holds no weight with me. I would've loved Sean had he been a woman. So, Laurel was her name and I cared for her, but she never understood about Sean. He is in my very soul - he runs in the blood that pumps through my veins - we are the same, he and I. Laurel didn't want to be second best and I don't blame her. Though, for a time, it was nice to have someone around to be with and to share life with once more - even if my heart was never fully in it. That was just not fair to her. [more]
Okay, so it's been a while since I wrote in this thing, but I guess I actually have somethign to say now. I have met someone. There is a person in my life that makes me feel again. The relationship has not become physical, but I canít say I don't want it to. I'm absolutely terrified. I donít know what to do about it, and the guilt is eating me away. [more]
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
I now know how Juliet must've felt as she waited for night to come on and bring with it her Romeo. Of course, I am all too well aware of how pathetically cliche that sounds, but I don't suppose I care. [more]
When I allow myself to think about anything besides decrypting Sean's notes or my council studies, my mind wanders to the upcoming Sabbat. Beltaine approaches and I hope it will be the day when I can allow myself to believe I am not crazy. Part of me doesn't want to celebrate the day at all. Now that my King Stag has been slain, I would rather take up position as The Crone. [more]
It seems I have found the three languages Sean was using to encrypt his notes. Of course he had to use three distinct ancient languages. I haven't yet found the primer for the theban or ogham parts, but the runic coding is coming along nicely. [more]
I am officailly insane. I went to bed last night shortly after my solitary rite and the ritual cakes and ale. Just after climbing under the covers I heard a voice - Sean's voice. He said "I am still here, Aleigh."
I jumped from the bed and looked around to see him materialize in front of my eyes. He was smiling, but in that sad way he sometimes has. I felt me heart leap into my throat at the sight of him - I thought he was still alive somehow. I reached out to touch him, but my hand went straight through his chest. Then the awful memory of burrying him under the stones of our ancient home hit me like one of those obscenely fast trains. I think I did a lot of crying then as he told me about the sacredness of the sabbats and how he could get away from the demon to see me on those eight days. He continued to speak to me as I sobbed and kept trying to touch my face then pulling away as he remembered he couldn't. [more]
I wonder if it's normal to be angry all the time. My shrink seems to think so, but what the hell does he know. I'd be willing to bet he never lost anyone the way I did. You'll have to forgive me for now, whoever you may be. I am well aware that all of my thoughts revolve around how angry I am or how greif stricken I am. But, you know what? It's my journal. And seeing as how it's my journal I'm going to write whatever the hell I want to. It is supposed to be personal after all. [more]
Well, my Council appointed therapist thinks this damn journal will help me get my "feelings out". I think I'd like to ring his prissy neck, but that's besides the point. The way I see it, nothing can help. Less than a month ago my world fell apart. How could they expect me to forget it all and pick up the pieces of my life without another thought? [more]