Sunday was a long day. Saw the diamond. It’s diamond-y. (no photography allowed, which makes sense I guess. The museum is essentially an old department store with mannequins dressed in 19th costumes ogling fake diamonds.) I took the journal with me. No new clue.

Based on the symbol in the front of this journal (Psyche) we’ve all assumed it’s triggered by different emotional states. So I’ve figured out (assumed) I’m supposed to find these objects and while somewhere near them have a specific emotional response? The latest clue is “where Archemedes’ cry shines brightest through its adoring cut.” Which means I have to feel what, either revelation (Eureka!) or adoration? Infatuation? Love? I mean, I’m not really a diamond girl, so… Blurgh. This all feels a bit like a parent’s emotional manipulation from beyond the grave.

Revelation is something I feel pretty regularly but if it’s love or adoration I’m supposed to feel, I might need to start looking at local real estate. The closest I’ve felt to any of that is, well… I won’t be vagueblogging today, you’ve all had front row seats to that story.

I mean, yes, there are feels and loads of them, both simple and complicated. And that’s the problem! Two people who want (for a lot of reasons) something simple, uncomplicated, transparent, but we’re separated by a complicated morass of secrets and lies and magic and mountains (and mountaineers), and to get back to each other we have to wade into that world again, and wading into that world sometimes feels like drowning. To ask that of him, to come back to the girl with the spell and the father and the past and the road ahead of her feels cruel. It feels like I’m reaching out for help only to drag him under with me.

I’ve imagined the night I found out everything going a hundred different ways instead of me stumbling away like I’d just climbed out of a car crash. But I didn’t. And I don’t know if I could’ve done anything else.

So I’m here in Kimberely with the diamond and the mannequins and the empty mine. Revelations yes, but anything else… Maybe I’m not that girl.

One thought on “Adoration

  1. Funny, I seem to recall my life was already pretty weird and complicated. I’d had visions of magic flowers and missing kids who’d turned into poetic wizards even before I “met” you.

    I know you’re having phone trouble. I don’t know if you’re getting my messages or texts, but since you kinda opened up here, I’ll do the same, and hope you see it. (Nice to know that you not seeing a text is just your hilarious and adorable inability to figure out your phone, not magic.)

    Those words are hard. Adoration. Love. Those words are hard to offer if you don’t know for sure you’re going to get them in return. And you think you barely know the “real” me. You mostly know me pre BC33. But that guy is the same guy. The things I didn’t tell you weren’t about me (mostly) and… I don’t know. You’re not the Deirdre you were either, I guess, yeah? So maybe we can meet again and see if this Cole and that Deirdre hit it off the way the old ones did.

    Thing is, I’m reaching out too you know. And sure, there’s a lot of weird between us, but I think we can juuust reach each other if we both reach together.

    Cause the words I can (and am brave enough) to use are still really good ones. Like respect. And awe. And butterflies. And hope.

    The truth is my life… the simple, uncomplicated one where I go to work and then I go home and back and forth and back and forth, it feels so much darker and scarier now that I know about this other world. The world where there’s magic. And you.

    I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m willing to wade if you’ll wade with me.

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