Spring is giving way to Summer in the land of Aes Sidhe, and the goodly denizens are all aflutter with sunny activities outside their hearths. Our queen sits quietly in a shadier spot on a temporary throne made of raven feathers and acorns, simply dressed in a muslin shift with a raw silk wrap at the ready to stave any lingering chill away. She has brought with her a favorite quill and a handful of parchment; she released her scribes to enjoy the weather however they think best. She sees no need for dictation today, as she is content to add her own thoughts into the ledger you see before you. She did, however, request that a single bard stay behind to strum a lute and voice in dreamy tenor the concerns she has had of late.
So much to report, Dear Readers, but not certain where to start.
I should begin by saying that I have stepped back from any and all suitors. Yes, I know, it
is a surprise! But I must tell you, my gentle friends, I have already lost the taste for casual dating. I have met a number of potential suitors, and for all the work involved the payoff has been tiny indeed. Even Prince The Real Megillah has lost his allure. Actually, Megs did something to me which was a deal-breaker, and I am still smarting from it. He appealed to my business acumen a second time and begged an audience with Yours Truly in order to continue his tutelage under my wing over enterprise of a personal nature bound to give him a goodly sum of coin. I was feeling unwell at the time, but knowing me as you all do, it is not within my personal code to deny assistance to any friend in need. I met him at a local carriage house and as I soothed my ragged voice with cups of Earl Grey he proceeded to lay out his troubles and concerns at my table and we began to strategize. I was calm and resolute in my advice, and charted a course of action for him which was contrary to what he wanted to hear. Since he came seeking my counsel, I offered him true and faithful advice. I did not sugarcoat, did not batter my eyelashes, did not lay tender fingers on his arm and speak in a coquettish manner. No, Readers, I was there to help not to distract. Megs grew petulant over the fact that the intellectual blueprint he laid out before me was summarily rejected. He offered up other ideas, and I shot holes through them all. I did this with kindness, or course, but I did not want him to fail in his endeavor, either, so I held strong to my opinions and gave my logical explanations for each one. Megs' demeanor grew sharp and shrewish. This is a man used to always having the upper hand, don't forget, so I'm sure he didn't enjoy the fact that in this realm my word and experience was greater than his. Now, Dear Readers, I can tolerate ego. I can tolerate bad moods. I can tolerate unvoiced frustration. I have experienced the brunt of it all. But what I cannot, shall not, and never will tolerate is the thing which Megillah did next. Angered by my less than enthusiastic or impressed reaction to his strategy, he took the opportunity to patronize me. Yes,
patronize me, if you can imagine! Talk down. Belittle. Reduce. Condescend. This is a deal-breaker, plain and simple. To patronize is to disrespect, and if I cannot depend upon simple respect from a suitor then he is not the one I wish to keep company with. Therefore I have taken my leave of him for the most part, though he still insists on pursuing the matter.
Secondly, my only remaining companion after the betrayal of Judas the Jacobite King and loss of my beloved canine sidekick whose image is my avatar (I do not speak of her here, Dear Readers, and doubtless never will, but the loss of her left me keening and wailing for weeks. Enough said) seems to have taken a turn for the worse in his health. Another canine, an aged one, is losing his grip on this earthly plane. The loss of him will mean that I will be fully alone in my solo queen's quarters in short order. This fills me with a sense of trepidation which I find difficult to articulate now. It will mean that for the first time in my life I will be completely and utterly alone. Oh my.
Thirdly, another male figure looms large and dark against my supernova sun. This man requires a separate entry. Goodness, this man requires his own book! This man is my father. This man is my creator, of both the good and the bad. This man is my madness. This man is also my senses of constant wonder and humor. A long and complex history filled with much sorrow and pain but interspersed with flashes of the brightest joy would fill pages of that yet-to-be-written book as they do the halls of my memory. It would take months to explain it all. Regardless, the time for that potential is not yet here. What I can and will say, however, is that he is a featured figure in my current affairs and for good or ill it seems that he too, may not be for much longer. Oh my.
On a personal note of a self-analyzing nature, something shifted in me VIII weeks ago, something small but vital. Something I could not quite put my finger on until very recently. It was a thought... no, a
feeling, is more like it... that haunted me like the dozens of other ghosts which manifest through my halls of late, something which I could not name but would not leave my subconscious until I did. I have finally figured it out and identified this feeling which niggled at me so. But now that I have classified it, I am partly frightened by it. It's something that's currently mixed up with other feelings as well, and until I can separate the grain from the chaff I can neither voice it nor act upon it. To do so would mean failure (or at least damage) at this juncture, and I certainly don't want to risk that. So instead I will continue to analyze and reflect, continue to bide my time, continue to grow and evolve as Solo Queen. I will continue to find my better Self and learn to love her fully.
Doubt, there's doubt
To love as you should
The trouble, the time that you did all you could
Doubt
~Boxer Rebellion
