Some of us keep them hidden from the eyes of friend and foe alike, while others of us leave them out in plain view. I’ve never hid my journal, nothing in it that I wouldn’t say publicly, if prompted. I find it’s a place to store my fears, my wants, hopes and dreams that are simply that. It tells the tale of me, naked and bared to the eye of the reader, the way I see the world, as well as myself.
Lucian offered me his journal to read. He even allowed me to take it with me, back to the house, back to my room, where I could read in the vestibule of quiet.
It brought to my attention some of my own inclinations on subjects that were written in passing. I am not a forward woman, I keep to myself, I talk little to those I do not know. I tend to be shy and quiet and forgiving of faults set against me. I hold no grudges and I am accepting of people around me. Tonight however I was not so shy, perhaps because our talk entailed things that I had lost. Things that I wanted again.
And so it will be something that we revisit at a later date, after I have acquired my raise in caste status, which is still at least a few months away. I realize many things could change between now and then, though I hope they won’t. In times like these, I am glad I am a patient woman.
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