(Rose)
My days are filled with too much activities to allow ti for introspection. Only at night, a little.
I’ve bound myself to you. I’ll have to admit to you one day so of it.
The colour of your skin makes uneasy at heart, I still suspect that’s why Nightmare chose it, but I’ve grown accustod to it a while ago.
I could comnt for a long ti about how pretty you are, your charming eyes, down to every feature of your physical body and growing personality.
The first child I ever held in my arms and loved, long before I t you, she made ...
She was an important, vital, part of .
The sensitives strings to my heart go that far back into my mories for the longest ones.
Things inside of that you made shiver, vibrate or sing.
And the echoes are amongst the easiest ones on .
More painful parts of my past resonate as well at tis, although now in a more soothing way.
But having a child also ans so terrifying things to , along with unbearable tornts that you lay bare.
The worst of my existence isn’t far in my mind. I winged, again and again, as droplets from hellish mories ca back to .
I’m not the greatest at letting go of ghosts, whether they were good or bad to .
Your presence made so many things that had decanted in my heart rise again. The worst ones as well, but lost amidst many good ones along.
Along mories going way back in ti, way way back, now with different shades.
To my childhood. My parents. My family. My forr sister. What an odd way to put it.
To the essential tips of my roots. Hm... That’s more sothing Blu would say. Although I was fond of floral taphors about myself too I recall...
~
It rains outside. I’m still asleep but I can hear it.
I feel your warmth by my side.
My child...
Your father, or mother, I’m confused, wasn’t Bleue. And I think you’ll be nothing like what she expected.
But you make shine a part of her dream. Which is another of my heartfelt strings.
I will have to tell you about her too soday.
A fond mory of her flying over the sea passes through my mind.
Of course I rember, Bleue...
Of course I do.
The music of my emotions is changing . I feel so colourful, in a nice way. In a human way I guess. Possibly in the most human way imaginable.
Although it doesn’t an it’s always granted, nor easy.
But feeling love for your child cos as naturally as many other instincts.
And because of who I am, or rather whom the child in my mories was, the fact that you were not exactly born makes it really greater.
To , adoption is an even greater form of love and humanity than natural parental love.
It’s more than natural. Much more.
Granting life and love to so young one whom was otherwise dood. It’s saving a life, in more ways than one.
That’s how I felt toward my parents. Always.
What should have happened to , it didn’t, and I lived, thanks to them only.
Having you as my child makes these emotions resonate strongly too.
Although you’re surely far less helpless than I was when they adopted , I want to be as good to you as they were to . To love you as much and to give you as much.
No matter how much you make cry, playing my sensitive strings lately.
You being there, you overwhelm the pain they do with so things far nicer.
I will help you live and raise you, hopefully to be as good a person as they were.
May she beco as humane as you mother and father...
May I...
~
I don’t know what you and your weird body will beco, and I’m eager to find out.
To see you grow I guess. I don’t know if you can. I don’t get what nightmare had in mind.
Aside for what she told , I’m uncertain.
The first few days with you felt like an entire year worthwhile of monts with you. Your voice alone carries more feelings than anything, and without words.
You don’t exactly or entirely look human, but you definitely are.
The last few days and weeks went by in a long blaze for . So fast. So colourful, in so little ti.
I might be too used to the soft pace of walking through endless landscapes. My rhythm of life changed over this ti.
Blu is drifting away on her own terms. Nightmare had enough...
You, you just arrived as the last spark between countless elents colliding.
Although the stains on my hands are not your responsibility.
Hopefully I will manage to protect you from harm you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself from yet.
Although sothing tells you will end up more capable than before I know it.
How long until you can talk?
I know I’m a happy wreck with you, more than I expected myself to be, but that prospect of a future chat with you delights already.
Again because it makes circle back to fond and nostalgic mories of the first Rose’s youth. But not only.
Because you’re cute, charming and unsettling in your own way, also, but still.
Because as a parent, my existence gets a sudden shift in aning and purpose that is new to , and appealing with you for my child.
I’m happy to have you. I wanted to have you. Or more accurately, I built up a web of desires and expectations over ti, and you’re striking them, eting them as an avalanche.
Whatever ideas I had about it that were hazy or uncertain, now you replace them.
It’s you. You’re there.
I’m struck in more ways than one, and despite feeling that I lost control over too many things in my life lately, I’m actually happy with the ending result.
You’re here, with .
~
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