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Vincent Valentine
12 March 2009 @ 04:45 am
30 chances.

That's a lot.

Seeing him rise to the top, and seeing him sink. 30 times.

I don't know what it will cost us. I do know it will be high. It won't be easy.

...he gave me a chance.

I owe him that much.

I owe myself that much.
Vincent Valentine
20 January 2009 @ 05:29 am
I think he's starting to get used to this.

He has the return of his eyesight to look forward to, one eye certainly, the other very likely, and chances are very likely that we'll be reimbursed for damages sustained by the port authority, and handsomely.

He really is the heart of this ship. As his spirits lift, so does the crew's. He's back to smoking, cursing and being as lewd as ever.

We wouldn't have him any other way.

We're going to see the doctor tomorrow. We're all hopeful.
Vincent Valentine
19 January 2009 @ 09:21 pm
This isn't right. The order is all wrong. They've upset the natural way of things.

He shouldn't be blind. Should not be this way.

Shouldn't be lost. Shouldn't be in the darkness.

The way he clung to me...

I'm not leaving his side. He was there for me. I will be there for him.

Whether he likes it or not.
Vincent Valentine
01 December 2008 @ 08:11 pm
The earth is women.


She chants and dances, and I can feel the vibrations through her body. Through the planet. Even in the air.

Like life. Renewal. Birth. Seduction.

And death.
Vincent Valentine
02 November 2008 @ 03:59 am
There's too much to think about.

One thing after another.

One long chain tangled in my head... in my heart.

My insanity. The lingering effects - on me, on Cid. Cid... The boys. All of them. Collen hates me. Iever identifies with me. Caleb just wants to come home. Uncertain looks from co-workers. The issues that never left.

I just needed time. Space. Quiet.

I just want the world to stop. Give me time to breathe. To catch up. To live.

Cid will understand.

I made a stop to talk with Cloud. He feels it too. The stirring. Witnessed the danger. The violence. The sickness. Knows something's coming.


Is already here.
Vincent Valentine
25 October 2008 @ 11:33 pm
We're taking the boys to St. Leon's, today.

It's a nice school. Good courses. Good dorms. Affordable. Excellent reputation. The boys even picked it out themselves.

... then why don't I want them to go?
Vincent Valentine
04 October 2008 @ 07:07 am
I can't believe I told him that.

That was supposed to stay buried, secret, inside of me, for forever.

How humiliating... to tell a man that what you desire most, the best reward you can imagine is to sit at his heels like a well-loved hunting dog, petted and treated and praised for a good day's work?

Yet all he did was kiss me.

Just as I think we're turning right, he makes a hard left and suddenly we're driving off the beaten path and through wild grass and mud and holding on for dear life while he laughs like a madman and drives us to only God knows what - because I'm pretty certain neither of us do.

We discussed the boys' schooling, and we've picked out several nice schools ( with Byron's help ) and we'll soon broach the subject with them.

Lately though, I've been driven topside. I can't explain the restlessness in me. I know only that the earth is stirring, and that we are all huddled on the brink of something momentous - waiting to topple.
Vincent Valentine
28 September 2008 @ 05:00 am
I spoke briefly, with Iever.

( He made me a lemon cheesecake. It was very good. )

I don't know why I told him all that. But I did.

It doesn't feel any different, having said it aloud. Any more or less true.

But now he knows about me. Essentially everything. Even the things I haven't told Cid, and likely never will. And the rest, I think, unfortunately... he can glean for himself.

Collen and Caleb are growing so quickly. We might need to talk about that... maybe apprenticing them elsewhere for a while.

I hate it. I don't want to let them go. But they're 11 now. Young men, soon. And while we will always be their family, we can't be their whole world. I see it in Cid, too. The realisation, and resignation, sometimes. There are times these days where he and I will be together, in the silence, and it's... the sensation is difficult to describe. As if we've become so old and still, that we've become the same thing.

I don't know where my mind is, these days.
Vincent Valentine
27 September 2008 @ 05:53 am
Christmas time again.

It's... perfect. It's the best thing to wake up to. Family. Home. Love.

I feel like I'm taking life too slowly, tiny hobbled steps when I want the freedom to race forward, but I won't let myself. It's frustrating.

Cid is with me, every hour, of every day. Normally, neither of us would take to that. Though we're very close and enjoy one another's company, we're also the kind of person to enjoy our space and independence. We should be shying away from such constant contact. But right now, I need it, I eat his presence up like life-sustaining food, and he seems eager to give it. I suppose, in a way, it's true. Without him... things would have spiralled much earlier. I would not have this journal. I wouldn't be alive to keep it.

The twins, as rambunctious as they are, seem to bounce back and forth between us like magnets between poles. They'll run outside, and I'll follow, but I'll watch as they tackle Cid from my seat on the porchswing, and watch them roll and tumble and roughhouse happily in the tall grass; when they're all tuckered out, they come back inside, and it's me they flock to, piling themselves on me like puppies, their weight and warmth a comfort to me.

These are lazy days.

Life is good.

I am happy.
Vincent Valentine
01 September 2008 @ 09:56 pm
I had my first shower in weeks. I can't think of a single thing that could have felt better.

Iever came to visit today. I don't know how he did it, but he made good work of my hair. It had gotten to the point where, Cid's opinion or no, I would have had to cut it all off.

We spoke for a time, but not too deeply. That's for the best. As cowardly as I am, I don't... think I'm ready yet, to face what I had sunk to. What my madness had reduced me to. Though I do have to, to a degree, and soon...

But Iever is doing well, happy, and relatively healthy. Quip is so good for him. They love each other without exception, and that is a rare and precious thing; and I do believe, that my son, my son, deserves that and more. And Quip also, I suppose; he has led a hard life also, and is a good man.

I haven't seen anyone else, for which I'm grateful. I'm... just not ready.

I'm too thin. I'm running on reserves. I know... I know I'll have to eat soon. Not just for me. But for him, too.