This Only Took Me An Eternity Oop - Blog Posts

  *  //  𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐑​ .

Melancholia has cruel tendencies of engendering grief at its worst. While Dáinsleif insists that too much time has past for him to remember his youngest years, he is no stranger of that sentiment. Of times when he did not know any better and this world wasn’t as grotesque. Of times where fantasies of the acceptance of a romance long gone that do not pertain to him— alas, they still seeped through his senses as if they were his own. If only he reminisced any at all. ❝I would not.❞ The pain that emanates from the lunar sacredness before him failed to go unperceived by him. Though his soul would say otherwise, there is naught but sorrow all that comes from reliving the past— the memories. For better or for worse, Dáinsleif is an expert of reliving until shattering himself whole. ❝It is human to desire for something that was better in one’s life.❞ Ah, but the duality that is so palpable in her words pains him to the very core. Pray tell, child of the moon. Were you given a chance to choose, what would it be? Your past of that whom you are meant to be? ❝…Tell me. Would you find any solace if you could pursue any of that which you seek from your past?❞

𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.    it waited patiently to cleave apart those dimensions and detach her from impossibilities.  yet, the waking dreams were unrestrained, and the wish as endless as the slumber of the cold aria moon.  lofty, and mystical, and strange.  she presumed it came with age, old and weathered as she was, a forsaken temple of paled limestone.  while, yes, we can call it all ‘human desire’, which at first it was — regardless, she must have been transcending such, if personal longings and conceptualizations of a wistful god fashioned her to a woman-clutter of contradictions.    “ solace ?  that’s very uncertain.  perchance, it could temporarily numb the sorrow with ‘what if’s’, but are such things not prone to repetition ?  do they not worsen it all ?  you know this better than any other. “    how long did it haunt her to intermingle and blend with other losses ?  where did they end and she begin ?  for how long would she wander both asleep and awake like an avatar, intoxicated by too much lunacy to bear ?    “ whether that which was lost could return to us, or we return to it, eventually we would lose it again.  i might not be strong enough to endure it many more times after piecing myself together.  i am... not like you, dáinsleif. ”