The Mysterious Thing Called Friendship

“Love the beautiful,
Seek out the true,
Wish for the good,
And the best do.
~Felix Mendelssohn”

When one holds onto their seclusion like a security blanket, there is very little time to make friends. I get people in my store everyday, each with their own stories to tell but they come and go, merely a ghost within my lonely world. I oftentimes wondered if I was the actual shade and the others were the reality that passed me by. Since coming to this odd odd town, all of my expectations have been blown apart, torn to shreds like Malachai’s claws through paper. For out of nowhere, I suddenly have people to call friends, people who wish me well, who wish me happy…never knowing just their presence does the job. Each of them is different, but I have seen the heart of them all..and I know their truths.

Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes”

~ Edgar Allan Poe

Teri was the first person to wriggle her way into that category here. A chance encounter on a random street. Malachai spotted her first and ran to go and greet her, charming his way around her like is his want. A teacher, but one who had a light that even I, without the benefit of sight, could see. It shone so bright I asked her to follow me. And so it came to be that we sat down in my shop with a cup of tea and the first lessons began. Her cards read of past pain, past sorrow but a heart so determined that nothing would ever stop her from moving forward. A heart that held it’s share of doubts but also a sense of curiosity. She listened to my words and than came back for more, again and again, until I figured out that she wiggled her way into my heart, one of the few I cherish in this place. Someone who challenges my ideals, my opposite well and true. But isn’t that the joy of friendship, to not always get along and believe the same things but cherish the difference regardless.

Time Flies,
Suns rise

And shadows fall.
Let time go by.
Love is forever over all”
~Author Unknown

Astrid was the next to wander within my shop. The shop itself has many a quaint number of curious things, but it’s the not merchandise that pulls people, it’s the need within them for their story to be heard, even the skeptics. Astrid owns the herb shop in town, a woman after my own heart it seems. She came in out of sheer curiosity to see what I, the long-lost and returned resident of this locale had set up. Pain, horror and loneliness, all these words you’d never associate with Astrid from just meeting her, but her cards showed the truth. My cards do not lie about a person’s soul. However that is her story to share, if and when she wishes to, a story that shall not meet the reader of this page for quite some time. When Astrid first entered my story, it was as if my mother had come back. Her very essence speaks of gentleness and plants, and that scent nearly had me in tears. It was like my mother had returned to me, at least to finally say goodbye. That meeting was as cathartic for me as it was of her. Since than, I have sat in her living room, worn her clothing, eaten her food and stayed in her home…She is one of the only people that I trust to be myself around. And that is a miracle and a half to me…for she does not fear me.

And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know,
Self-schooled, self-scanned, self-honored, self-secure,

Didst tread on earth unguessed at. Better so!
All pains the immortal spirit must endure,
All weakness that impairs, all griefs that bow
Find their sole voice in that victorious brow”
~ Matthew Arnold

There are times when I think Malachai knows people better than I ever will and he seeks out those that I need. If Mala had not seen him, standing in the corner by the road across from our home, I likely would never had met Marcus…or would have too terrified to even approach him. Marcus, I don’t know how to even describe Marcus, what words to use for him so I believe I will just tell of what his heart speaks to me. A gentle gentle giant, who’s sheer self is so vast and so encompassing that there is no avoiding it. A guardian that picked me up as if I was a child and tucked me into my bed after I collapsed on the road. He, like me, knows the challenges of being different for he speaks not. How do a blind and a mute have a conversation? By touch, by facial expressions, by him kneeling so that I may feel his face so I know the expressions and the movements he makes. I have a feeling that he is not thanked often enough, that others take him for granted…so in these words, on this page I want to say “Thank You”. Thank you Marcus for being you, for guarding me so kindly, though you never were asked to. I call you friend and will keep your story close to my heart.

And This shall be for music when no one else is near,
The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear!

That only I remember, that only you admire,
Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire”
~Robert Louis Stevenson

There has never been a man that has infuriated me as much and endeared himself to me as much as Bastion has. A meeting that started with me landing on my ass in the snow and him laughing at me before bringing me inside and taking care of me. A relationship of insults, challenges, laughter and joy. My feeling concerning this man are so new. No man has ever wanted the odd blind girl that flinched whenever someone has touched her before. No man has taken time out of his life to guide me through a cone-filled obstacle course of a road, merely because he didn’t want me hurt. One who has lifted me in his arms as if I weighed nothing and carried me to bed, staying with me through the nightmares. There is a darkness inside of him, one that he fears..but I don’t fear him for I too have darkness and I am the mirror for one to see the truth. He is a good man, a kind man who might be a bit gruff on the outside but loves with his all. He seems as alone as I am and I want to fill that hole within him and chase away the shadows with light. Who knows where our paths may lead, but I’m looking forward to the journey. 


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