Leave me be. It's been eighteen years and I'm just trying to get out from under this.
Eighteen years and I've grown roots like a tree in a grief mightier than any maple on this property.
Eighteen years and I still see him when I close my eyes.
Eighteen years and he would have been the handsomest old man that ever was but that's the problem. He isn't, anymore. He left me here alone and I came out understanding the true meaning of loyalty and you all still think it's a cult.
You think Ben is some sort of wizard, and that Lochlan is untrustworthy. You think Caleb is the Devil.
(Okay that one's true though.)
I'm taking a little trip this week. I'm scared to death to leave but sometimes you need a change of scenery and hopefully it's what the doctor ordered and hopefully it works as intended and then I'll be back. I didn't want to mark a birthday that won't be celebrated or a death date that gets far too much brain-time. I didn't want to be me, for once.