TWO

Kyliena.

It was an early morning on a freezing October morning, Halloween was just around the corner. I had woken up to the gentle pitter patters of the rain on the roof of the place I now called home. 

I had swiftly gotten myself up and bathed then dressed before taking a seat at the windowsill. I opened my favorite book of all time, The Princess Bride by William Goldman.

I just love his work…even though I’ve never experienced love like that. My ex boyfriend Blake has an ego too large to let himself be completely consumed with loving someone other than himself.

It’s okay. I still loved him and enjoyed his company. He made me laugh.

And of course, I love my dad and he loves me dearly, but I had never managed to let somebody capture my heart. I tried with Blake; but it seems like he’s conflicted at times and is scared of me because I had given him my all and offered my heart.

Yet he always treated my heart like a library book.

When we were together he held my heart but when he brought me back home, he returned my heart to me before he left. 

I never understood it.   I blamed it on his ego.

Not to mention I feel like I haven’t managed to steal his or anybody else’s heart before I met him. Not that I really complain about it—Blake used to insist that he truly and deeply loved me and that I had his heart and he had mine.

He used to tell me that I’m just being paranoid.

Who knows, maybe I was paranoid like he said I was. I honestly had gotten used to the idea that the gods had not made my heart to be loved completely, but they had made my heart to love endlessly…

I loved the flowers, the trees, the rain, the snow, the sun, the animals, the ocean, and the sea animals...yet I truly believe no one truly loved me.

Hmmmph, it appears to be that I must’ve drawn the short stick and been made terribly ugly or just terribly unloveable.

Or maybe I’m cursed.

I like to be on my own most of the time-or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

It was now just me, my grandparents, and this large townhouse that sat right next to a tattoo shop and at the edge of this forest of ancient evergreen trees on the coast of Washington. 

I didn’t mind it this way.  It’s been peaceful so far.

I looked up from the pages of my favorite book and blissfully looked out the large bay window that overlooked my grandparent’s backyard; at what someone would call depressing weather…I always saw beauty in the things others would not. 

I was abruptly interrupted by my internal monologue from the beast in my abdomen called my stomach, it was getting impatient. I ended up getting up and heading to the kitchen to look in the cabinet to find something to eat. —Before my grandparents left early this morning to get my grandma to her doctor’s appointment two cities over, they told me I’m welcome to eat whatever I wanted.

I made myself an omelet only using the fruits of my grandfather’s labor that grew in their small greenhouse garden —I’ve been told by my grandma that my grandpa is very spiritual when it comes to mother earth, and he believed we need to respect and protect it, but not many people share the same opinion. My grandmother and I do though.

I am forever grateful for the produce the gods-had gifted me, and the world with it…I didn’t see a reason for the slaughter of defenseless animals— after all it was their earth before it was mine and ours.

I resumed my seat on the window daybed after I was done making my omelet; I watched the gray mid-morning sky as I ate.

And I must say Dinah the chicken did lay a good batch of eggs, and the peppers and mushrooms tasted as if they had been personally blessed by the gods themselves.

The sky was beginning to clear and the rain subsided, the sun shone bright and brilliant…today was going to be a good day. I can just feel it in my bones.

After washing my plate and finishing my tea that I had made earlier, I put on my wellington boots and ventured outside. The cold wind lashed my skin but I didn’t care, I simply embraced the feeling and silently thanked the earth for letting me experience its wonders.

I took the short walk down to the nearby stream and leaned down. I could see my reflection in the clear water and the feeling of it splashing against my hand. Upon further exception I saw something glistening at the bottom, my eyebrows knitted together with curiosity, since I’ve been here I’ve only seen the occasional fish in the stream but this was a big surprise and rather odd that the water wasn’t cold, it was warm.

I dug my hand into the bed of the stream and pulled out a small pink stone. I used the stream's water to clean the stone off and once it was rid of mud I pulled it back out for further inspection. It was beautiful and I recognized it to be rose quartz after a moment or two of pondering.

When I held the stone I felt its power unlike any other. It was an odd feeling, how could a stone feel powerful? I was skeptical of myths and fairytales, it's not that I didn’t believe in them, I just wasn’t a firm believer.

But I even had to admit the quartz felt like magic, most of all it felt warm.

It warmed my heart...just like love warms the heart.

The stream quickly became freezing cold the moments after I took the stone out of the water.

What is this?