I screamed into the void that was my empty, broken mind and heart. All I heard were my own screams. There was no one else. No other sounds.
I was utterly alone to try and piece back together the workd that had shattered around me.
Everything i knew was nothing more than an illusion. It wasn't real. I had been fooled.
When that reality shattered, I felt something within me break as well. It felt like a punch to the gut, I lost my air and couldn't breathe for a moment. When I finally could, it physically hurt to so so.
My throat felt like when you need to cry but keep holding it back and it hurts like Oblivion. My eyes watered and stung but I refused to shed those tears. I swallowed them instead.
I sucked it up and figured it would all go away soon.
It didn't. It got manageable, but that pain... That feeling of being unwanted, of being nothing but a burden to the family you had known all your life...
The boys helped, and things were looking better, then I had to bury them. This stupid, senseless war...
I had lost the only people that actually wanted me around, that had actually loved me.
I was alone.
Or so I felt, despite having Casfina. She was a close friend from the College, she and I had a very strong, if somewhat frowned upon bond. But it didn't matter, she cared for me, and I for her. I knew i could count on her to help.
But when I returned, she was gone, too. Something about a letter from home, she had to go back to Valenwood in a hurry. I sent a letter, but while waiting my stupid mind went crazy and this heavy emptiness settled in my heart, in my brain, in my bones... I couldn't move for two days. All I could think about was how pitiful of a person i was that everyone I had loved had all left me with all left within the span of a few months. All I could think of was how much better off people would be without me there existing for no damn reason.
I got low...
I took a knife to my wrist. I knew how to do it, but I was scared. I messed up. I didn't die but I came close. A drunkard found me in a snowdrift and helped me get better. Since ibwas in no shape to use Restoration, theres a scar. I didnt want to see it ever again, thats why I got the tattoo, to cover up the mistake.
Of course, my stupid brain was busy berating me the wntire time that i was such a waste of space and such a pathetic excuse for a living bwing that I couldnt even die properly. Or maybe that no other plane of existence wanted me and I was denied crossing over. Death didnt evwn want me. No...the universe wanted me to suffer.
I went home, I found the travelling Legion encampment. I figured if i could at least settle for being useful and offered to heal anyone.
The voice in my head went away for a little while, but it akways came back. But as Ronthiir and I got close, it stayed away. I thought I could be happy after we got married and bought the farm, I was over the damn moon when I found out i was expecting.
The voice stayed away, things were good. The babes came early but they recovered, Ronthiir was coming back soon and we could all enjoy our lives.
Then everything went to shit.
I thought Ronthiir blamed me for the longest time, I thought that was why we got the divorce, but it was me. I figured I wouldnt get better and he would eventually leave anyways so this removed him guilt, or so I apparently thought if what i wrote down on paper is to be beloved.
I had gotten too comfortable, too happy. I needed to be punished.
There was that voice again, it was so loud and blocked out everything else, it was all i could hear until it stopped. But so did I. I had stopped fighting it and it had won. The nwxt conscious thought i recall having was the divorce and Ronthiir leaving. After that, I just started walking.
It wasn't until a few years ago I could start to remember things. Thats when I met the others, and inwas invited along. The voice stopped and I was in more control of myself again.
Things were all right.
Until they all left.
I felt alone again. Like I was no longer wanted around. I went back to trying to be useful. And then I wasn't needed any longer.
Even a friend, who I offered to help desoite the obvious risk to my own life and health, chose another.
And then, I came here.
Not seeing myself as any good anywhere else, I could at least help my friends establish a better hold on the Reach, so I chose to be traded.
Things have not been near as bad as I had imagined/ been warned they would be. They've actually been a bit better than I could have asked for.
The voice has been oddly quiet lately, but I can feel it... Things are too good, I am getting to comfortable and happy... It will strike again...
The vicious cycle will begin anew...
Is it too much to simple be wanted and needed, in a way that is also beneficial to me and jot just whomever I'm helping?
Is that too much to ask for?