Darts Dairy

I was right to return to the Wolfriders. It is easier here. There are no bad memories here, in this place where the sky is far away, hidden by leaves and branches, and where the moon and the stars are mostly just memories and where the sun is only visible as rays of light. The smell of the forest is full of life, just as my life is full of the forest. It occupies my entire night, from rising to going back to bed. Most nights it is easy to follow the Way. The past seems a far away place, so far sometimes that it feels unreal. Sometimes it seems like I never went trough any of that, and that those are the memories of someone else, having a place in my head only because I heard the story somewhere.
And then there are those moments... I don't know why things hit me the way they do. I can see a boar being killed, and see only a boar being killed. And the other night, I can see a boar being killed, and before my eyes there are the go-backs, and my sword is back in my hands, and it all returns to me. My world is filled with blood and rage again. I wish I knew why... I wish I knew how to stop it, I mean. Stop the memories. Most days they are not there. Why can't that just be the case all the time?
In those black moments, I don't want anyone to be near me. I know father and mother are worried but I don't see the need for them to know all the details. It would make no sense really, because they wouldn't know what to say anyway. They would probably repeat all the helpfull comments that only make matters worse, that I have heard a thousand times already. I would end up having to lighten up my story just to make them feel better.

I'm going to have a sibling now.
A pregnacy is supposed to take two years, but I swear mother did it in a couple of months. Kimo laughs about it when I say so, but really, she told me she was pregnant just yesterday and now she's having this baby.
Having a sibling is something else than having your own child, of course.
Father made a lot of under water comments in the past months, about how it should have been my child and not theirs, and about me not getting any younger, and stuff like that. Last week I really wanted to bash in his brains, but I know he doesn't know, so I settled with smacking the broom I was holding accidentilly into his skull while turning around. Father looked at me angrily, and for one short moment I wanted to tell him. When he started splitting my skull with his sending the moment passed.
I think I'm just going to go away, find a bush of dreamberry's, and dream the night away untill I can see things clearly again. Untill I am sure I can look at this baby and see my sibling and not my son.

Well to my great relief my sister looks nothing like Bowki. She is not nearly as soft as he was, and she doesn't have his big hands and long legs and, I hate to say it, but she's a lot balder then he was. Not that he had a head full of hair when he was born, but well... With him there was something, you know? A bit of fuzz or something...
Mother was so much wrapped up in her pink cloud, that I don't think she noticed that I'd been eating dreamberries during most of her delivery. My relief was short-lived; father had noticed and was not amused. I got a short, sharp comment on adult behaviour and being supportive and what not, but he went back to mother as soon as he could. They are too buisy with the baby to notice anything going on on my part.

Seeing father and mother with Chitter makes me realise just how much of Bowki I missed out on. It was a good call to leave the way I did. What use did he have for a father who was never really there anyway? One day he would have been old enough to realise that I was not half the father Talmah was. He would have seen that even though I was there more often, physically, I didn't pay him the attention he deserved. Now, at least he still had the good memories and all the troubles and heartace are still where they belong: with me. I'm sure Bowki grew up to be a balanced, happy elf, the way he was supposed to be, and I was there just long enough for him to get to know me and not long enough to mess it up.
So if I did such a good job, then why do I feel so sad every time I see Chitter trow her arms around fathers neck?
It's just sentiment, I guess... I'm not much of a family man. The whole bonding thing is not for me. I have nothing to offer to anyone. It's hard enough living my own life, let alone share it with someone.
Even Kimo realises that now. Him and me; it was a beautiful dream, back in the forevergreen, where everything was hotter and where all the strangeness got us closer together. His life is filled now, just as mine is. The smells of wet earth and rain in the wind have evaporated the last of whatever it was that was between us, and replaced it with friendship, which is just as well...