Journal of a Kikuyu

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Well, the reason I'm writing this is because I don't officially keep a diary, and here I know it will be kept eternally until...pray this day never comes...the Mighty Pen finally lays down its quill and sighs a goodbye. Perhaps I will be able to write this event, and my feelings, with any sort of accuracy.

 

I have often wondered who my true love will be-- will I ever find him? has been a question I've considered often. More often is why the most interesting men in my life, the only ones I've ever been attracted to personally, are all so much older than me. I've been told it's a thing of maturity, but then I wonder will I have to wait so long to find my true love?

 

It also hurts because I know that all people are unique-- while I am very, very pleased to retain my friendships with these men, I also know that another like them will never come. Perhaps my true love will be a compilation of these men who bless my life every day with their kindness and hilarity, as well as their consideration for the simple, timid feelings of the little girl hidden beneath the "ninja".

 

And then I think about time-- everyone grows up. I don't like change, and I like less the idea of being distanced from the close ties I have knotted through these high school years. Perhaps it is hardest for me because, during the tender years of elementary school, I had no friends besides my twin. We were really all the other had-- we had acquaintances and general friendliness...but I had no one I could ladle my fears and wishes to. I had no one to cry a shoulder on, and so, most often, I cried alone. My twin, of course, shared my tears, but there are some wounds that are shared together. I mostly feel that we are one and the same, and so, some comfort is harder to bear through two hearts.

 

These friendships, I swear, will not break. They are my first. In middle school I made several good friends-- I was, you could say, forcefully dragged from my shell and my somewhat sharp exterior. But many of these friendships have faded over the years. In a way, I do not mind. I will always remember them for their patience and enthusiasm-- the first I'd ever encountered-- at getting to know me. Getting to know the true me, not just a brave exterior to prove I did not really need them when they would, inevitably turn on me. And these friends, these true friends, did not. We stayed true through the few years we knew each other.

 

But, as I said, we grew apart. But they opened the door to my friends I met in high school: friends who have changed my life forever. A close group to whom I can tell any story and every fear. Shoulders to cry on, and laughter to ring through the halls. Adventures and misadventures to tell about in the evenings. They are a part of my heart, my soul. My twin I know for a fact will always be by my side. But I have fears that these friends, these slivers of my heart, will slowly fade and turn cold inside of me. They will not truly leave...their pain will stay with me. I only pray that they will not.

 

I love them all. But to tonight's event, the one that is causing me to write this philosophical outlook of the strange, secluded twin who learned to love. Through a series of events, I have become acquainted with the leader of a renaissance-festival band. He is tall, dark, handsome, and entirely charming. He is one of these men who has influenced me and taught me to be more myself, to stop being timid, to live out.

 

He has my respect in every regard. I consider him so much higher than myself-- not just in age, but in elegance and grace. And yet he takes the time out of his life...actually canceled pre-ordained plans...to come and see a local chorus concert of myself and my two sisters. For the fourth time. And he lives no mean distance away, especially for a little chorus concert.

 

This is not just a man providing loyalty to his fans. This is friendship...dare I say it, a kind of love. Of course it is not romance love-- that would be just silly, at our ages. And it is not romance love on my side either; rather, a kind of brotherly love. I see him as a true gentleman...the kind of man that perhaps one day could win my love. We sat, him and my family, around coffee and teas and chatted for three hours. I wish it could have been longer. We talked about...oh, everything and anything. Funny stories, Shakespearean philosophy...you name it, it was probably covered. When he finally drove away at the end of the night, my heart began to ache. When my good high school friends and I part ways for the college months again, it will be almost more than I can bear. This summer has been a dream-- my friends available almost whenever I need them or want to see them, and my respected lads always popping up in new places.

 

I suppose this "journal" of the night has turned more to a speculative talk about love and romance. I wonder where my prince charming is? My favorite fairy tale is Beauty and the Beast. Of course, I don't want my prince charming to appear in a monster's shell at first. But then...I wonder if perhaps I am, or was, the beast in this fairy tale? I was the one who was slowly excavated from a sharp, unloving hide.

 

It was only when that hide was worn away that I began to write. I think that is connected. The muse could not breathe under that beast's fur. Now the wings have truly spread, and I can fly at last.

 

When I look at his face, I see kindness and interest. He is the kind of man who, despite age, will appreciate beauty around him. I have never considered myself beautiful, but around him, sometimes, I feel quite breathless and don't know where to look or say. For example, tonight, when I let my hair down, he considered me with an expression I am familiar with, but have never really felt it pinned straight on me for sure. I did not know what to do, and so I turned it into a humorous moment to drive the attention, and the seriousness, from myself. In a way I am desperate for that true love, being a Romantic after all. But I don't want him to come too soon so that in my immaturity I miss him. But I am an impatient fey child-- I do not want to wait forever. But it is all God's will, and I must be patient if that is His plan for me.

 

To him, I am no small child to be tolerated. Nor am I just some little sibling to be ignored. Nor am I just a giggling fan-- I pray I do not giggle overmuch!!-- to be amused by, or annoyed by in turn. I am... a person... a friend.

 

I hope he is a part of my life for a long, long time to come. And I hope that one day he finds someone good enough for him. I cannot imagine him married. He seems too...too. There are very few gentlemen in this world these days, and when one comes by, I cannot help but be hopelessly smitten by him.

 

Dear Friend, I hope that I provide as much joy to you as you do to me. You have blessed me, and helped me, more than you probably know. More than saving my twin from rain and fear and sadness that one day. More than just introducing us to a fun band. You are that knight in shining armor, and this little-beast-no-more thanks you.

 

Thank you.

Edited July 25, 2009 by Kikuyu Black Paws

[Degorram]

I also thank you, lad. Thank you for seeing us when most others wouldn't. Thank you for being wise in your reservedness, but willing to try, to grow in our friendship, to get to know us despite all the things that the world would tell us must forbid it: age, the foremost of these things. Thank you for rescuing me from a rash and emotional decision that could have changed my life forever. Thank you for making me feel safe as no one really can. Thank you for awakening the feelings of peace and happiness that are too often brief in the pessimistic cloud that I surround myself in. Thank you for breaking our shells with that smile, that laugh, that look that you seem to reserve only for us, as if contemplating our differences from others.

 

We love you. Very much. You are, as said before, the knight in shining armor; not the romantic rescuer, but the wise teacher who helps those he rescued to grow and become heroes themselves.

[Wyvern]

*Sneaks into the Cabaret Room and drops his stack of schemes to wrap Kikuyu up in a winged hug, dragging Degorram into it with the tip of his tail as well*

 

Thanks for sharing these thoughts here Kikuyu, they're very personal and touching. I sympathize in a lot of ways, particularly with the things you said about friendships. Good friends are really hard to come by, and you have to cherish those that you have while they're around. I'm glad that you have people in your life who brighten your day and who you feel really close to, and am also glad that you feel comfortable sharing your feelings with the people here. :-) Outside of folks in this community, I could name one or maybe two people who I feel close to outside of my family, and that's pretty much it... makes me relate more to the difficulties you described in that regard, though the way a twin affects the workings of it all is foreign to me of course. :>)

 

Anyway, I'm sure if the leader of the renaissance-festival band could read this now, he'd be brimming with happiness and pride. Still, a diary's a diary!

 

*Wyvern slaps an Almost Dragonic Brand Geld Fine Seal of Approval™ on Kikuyu's new journal before unraveling his wings and allowing the ninja and shifter to breath. He grins toothily and half-bows his head to each of them in turn, then turns with a swoosh of his tail in a gentlemanly fashion before dropping to the floor and scrambling for his dropped schemes like a stray dog sorting through bones in a junkyard.*

 

;-)