Pennington to Sawyer upon leaving the Heathers...
Excerpt from novel two, in the Pater Nostras Series "93 Kilometers to the Better"
"To the better" Are we? I believe so. You alone brought we two into the Dire providing me with so very much more than I had ever hoped to achieve unilaterally, much of it at incredible personal cost. All I might offer you at this point is my truth: I am your end; that I love you further than even I am presently able to see. What is done now is for the both of us, what is needed.
Be compliant for the time being as I will be the man expected to be.
Is it possible that a man can be so changed by love that you could not recognize him to be the same?
Should I look away as I read your novels and disregard the similarities between myself and Delcan McDaniels?
Watching you and witnessing the darkness casting over your eyes of light amber I find clues how it is that I might gain the knowledge to unlock the keys to all that is kept from the worlds view.
You fight impossible battles to realize wins that are relevant in some deep seeded way that I know nothing of...
Such is the complexity of our relationship eh?
Pending thoughts plaguing we two; what the future may hold for the immortal, navigating our way through breaths exhaled
inhaling the air of the unknown amongst those who'd never comprehend what type of world we exist in on this day.
As I glance at worn photos settling in my wallet of you, you and I, I can't seemingly recollect just how much time has past.
Our lives contaminated by internal, unseen forces are but ours alone to shoulder in this life time and I'm left with the wonder of how we came to be here.
Austin seems a distant planet upon my return from Scotland, is it not the same for you?
I take moments in the day merely to retrieve what was daily routine...
If not to gather a glimpse of that which became a familiarity, comfort to myself.
I held no concern of the inevitable, which has become a vice, nightly so.
I've resolved to simply close weary eyes and post you quiet notes of graceful thoughts...
Such as that cafe that you consistently speak of; desire to place your glass down and "normalize" the day broaching. You've spoken, in broad terms of displacement; feeling the break of self worth and ostracizing...
I never fully understood
until I faced her with accusations much in similarity to those faced by you in your darkest day.
No one desires to be singled out for imagined infractions of the soul.
I ache for you honey, with evening that closes I find no comfort in the darkness that approaches.
Be well in all that you do, remind yourself that you are not alone in this that engulfs us on the present, on the morrow.
We are riding the wave of promise, let that tide you over for the time spent apart.
My God did that sound as lame as it did inscribing it?
I place pen to paper in trepidation knowing full well that as a writer/scribe you read me as text traveling on a tangent unknown to this novice.
I return to you soon; somewhat broken down by the distance, it is my fervent hope that you vest our love and hold it to steal the pain when I am unable to be there in place.
From my hand to yours,
love not completely told,
Ethan
When you're away
it feels as though each thing surrounding my being is lessened in color; vibrancy, though
your constant berating has, admittedly taken a considerable toll upon my spirit. While it is truth that guidance is very much a part of what I require, it is also a bitter pill to swallow.
As our lives unfold I begin to trust,
something that does not come easily to me.
You ask why it is that I am repetitive in experience and choice.
The response isn't in reference to behavior modification, it is merely state of mind, a mind lost deep in thought-
residing in country of another
I see you Ethan, as the better days of my life long. Desires of which I have plenty, have become secondary to dealing with the demands of the day present.
I fall, get up and begin again falling silent onto deaf ears. That is what happens when no one readily hears the cries of the small child in ones soul.
I could not decide to live as a mortal only to find yourself and I waking on the morn as immortal.
We chose a destiny, yet it beckoned.
I'm beginning to hold the belief that it was Garrison and his family who chose we, not some fluke in my research of the Garrison effect.
I'm well aware of life's toll taken on you, your circumstances have become graven with the ash of the Heathers.
Nights drag themselves out endlessly as I ponder needlessly when I should be productive in further research, writing.
You reference Declan as though I should take pause in effect; this I cannot do for you...
He became relevant when no light deemed itself worthy of shining upon my face.
A needed reprieve when providence took an absence, a pardon for being caught between the here and the morrow.
Know solace in that I won't falter though thoughts, as yours, plague me of doubt.
I'm far too young to not seek success; cross lines that only those who would stand when the winds of Heathers swirl...
Into your arms I do so fall,
from my hand to yours,
Sawyer
After a non convincing week full more of trepidation rather than capitulation I'm looking forward to a week of work that fulfills.
Don't live in regret, find your way and make a path where there was none before.
Don't speak ill of others if you haven't heard the song that plays in the background of their lives.
Life is short, the word 'can't' is a shovel.
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews
John and I are going to release an unedited version of the novel "93 Kilometers to the Better" to a select few, signed for those who have been collecting. Thank you for the interest!
