I Do That A Lot

I teared up a little reading my book today. Perrin, a lead character, had just learned that his family had been killed. He showed little emotion of any kind, moving on to other pressing issues at hand. That is, until his love, Faile, decided that was enough. I'll just let the author do the talking.

"I have had enough," she announced. Perrin frowned as she stood and came around the table to him. Seizing his head, she pulled his face into her midriff. "Your mother is dead," she said quietly. "Your father is dead. Your sisters are dead, and your brother. Your family is dead, and you cannot change it. Certainly not by dying yourself. Let yourself grieve. Don't hold it inside where it can fester."

He took her by the arms, meaning to move her, but for some reason his hands tightened till that grip was the only thing holding him up. It was only then that he realized he was crying, sobbing into her dress like a baby. What must she think of him? He opened his mouth to tell her he was all right, to apologize for breaking down but what came out was, "I couldn't get here any faster. I couldn't-I-" He gritted his teeth to shut himself off.

"I know," she murmured, stroking his hair for all the world as if he were a child. "I know."
He wanted to stop, but the more she whispered understanding, the more he wept, as though the soft hands on his head were smoothing the tears out of him.

With Faile holding his head beneath her breasts, Perrin lost track of how long he cried. Images of his family flashed in his thoughts, his father smiling as he showed him how to hold a bow, his mother singing while she spun wool, Adora and Deselle teasing him when he shaved for the first time, Paet wide-eyed at a gleeman during Sunday long ago. Pictures of graves, cold and lonely in a row. He wept until there were no more tears in him.

So much of that screamed at me, pulling emotions out from my core. Not just at the loss of his family, but at the love between Perrin and Faile. The story up until this moment had the two quite angry with each other and not speaking for about a week or so. This moment showed that none of their reasons for fighting mattered, not in the face of tragedy. It showed that her love for him was real, despite the horrible things he had said to her in hopes of driving her away so she would not see him die, or die herself trying herself trying to avenge him.

There's so much more I'd love to put here but I would end up having at least half the book posted if I don't rein myself in now.

I wish there were someone who loved me that much. Someone who would hold me when I cry, and tell me when I need to be. Someone who would cast aside the frightfully horrible things I said and did to hurt her, intentional or not, when something of a greater importance came about. A girl I could do the same for without being a creep for loving her too much when she does not share the remotest part of that love for me.

But that is a tangent I do not intend to continue on. I just wanted to share this with the few (and dwindling) readers I have.