If I haven't said it before, I don't own Drizzt or Catti or anything else associated with the story... I only own this poorly planned plot line...
Love
Many things have been said about love:
"After awhile, you find your longing for them fades and you simply let the go. You will always remember and you hope they never forget, but you don't want them to love you anymore. There is a point where your wall, holding in all the pain and suffering and doubt, breaks and there is nothing to do but forget."
This was something that I found in my old elvish home, before I exiled myself to live under the stars and open sky. Love was not something tolerated in my particular race. There was lust, yes, but nothing akin to love. I recall reading this in an old book I had found while living underground, a book brought back from a raid above our home. It had been thrown out numerous times by numerous elves. I found it after spending the night with a priestess that gave me the choice to come with her for the night or face the wrath of her anger at my refusal, and so I had followed her, a weakling. That night, after she had gone to sleep, I had crept around the room, looking for anything that might have value. The book looked old, old indeed, and I assumed it was full of spells. I left the priestess and never heard from her again: she never knew I had the book.
It turns out that it was a journal from a human the elves had robbed. The journal was not even halfway full of thoughts and other confessions of the human, a woman, by the penmanship. It was full of ideas of love, mostly having to do with losing the one she had loved. These things the journal keep echo in my heart every time I look her, the woman that haunts my every move and thought.
"The sign of pure, true love is the willingness to let them be happy without you."
"It hurts to let it go, but it hurts worse keeping it all in."
My ranger's mind sneered at these statements. This was nothing more than a journal for the woman to spill her sicking sweet thoughts into, something that should have been burned in the raid instead of tucked away in the shelf of a priestess, who would have burned it most likely if she had took the time to open the book.
My elven soul felt sadness for this woman. What had happened to her love to cause all this anguish, all this pain? I couldn't imagine the sorrow she might have gone through; I assume that her lover had died and left her in the wide world all alone. He had gone somewhere she couldn't follow until her time had come.
I took this journal and wrote my own thought on the very back page, leaving my own mark in this novel of heartache. I knew that I couldn't ever have Catti as my own, there was too much difference between us. But, I wanted to let my guard down just once, to write something that beautiful just once... Just once.
"Stop thinking...
Stop breathing...
Leave her well alone;
For the mark of true love means
You would rather live alone."
This is by no means the end! I still have a bucket or two of angst coming up! Please, please, please review and tell me what you have to say about this story! I really appreciate it! Thanks for reading and I'll update soon!
