I hear you crying sometimes when you think no one is listening.

Heya Everyone.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Life kinda exploded for a bit, and thanks to some dear friends, I am back, hopefully permanently. The plan is to start with one a month, around the third of each. Then as I get back into the swing of things, I’ll try and slowly get back to once a week.

To be perfectly honest with you all. I stopped writing a long time before I stopped posting each week. I discovered a few months later that my medication was inhibiting my creativeness. It worked to stop my depression, but it also stopped all other feelings as well. I have now switched medication, and slowly but surely, the urge and ideas to write are returning.

My illness has also gotten both worse and better. A few months ago I was hospitalized, before being released into my families care. I have finally bounced back from that, and have even more coping strategies to try stop that happening again.

Also, as of the first few days of December last year, I am no longer a single pringle. I cannot find the words to describe how amazing and supportive my boyfriend is. He’s been there through all the ups and downs of the last few months, and he’s one of the five people helping me get back into the swing of writing things again.

And finally, I have once again left the family home. The last few months have been a chaotic mess of trying to find a place while balancing illnesses and other commitments, but we did it! And I’m feeling better than I have in a long time.

None of that truly excuses my abrupt disappearance, and I do know that. I never wanted this, any of it. I started this blog with the intent to write and post every week. I want that again, I just need to be more realistic about it this time. What restraints I already face, and the realistic side of just how ill I am. Please bear with me.

To our standard thing. This month’s prompt was I hear you crying sometimes, when you think no one is listening. I did have a really clever idea for this, but as a really clever writer, I started it on a pad of paper. Which I managed to misplace in the last few days before I could borrow a computer to type it up on. (Oh yes! I also managed to smash my laptop at the end of last year, extra skill points). So... hopefully, I’ll find that sometime soon, and add it as an additional post.

She was supposed to be the strong one, the fierce and fearless leader who never stepped a foot out of place. Someone who was affected by nothing. It was a cloak she wore around herself, a shield used to keep her safe from all that would dare try prove otherwise.

It wasn’t until late at night that she allowed her shield to fall. When all those that counted upon her had left for places and nightmares of their own. When the words she had and the strength she held could protect those she held dear no more.

That is when the terrors of the day could be held at bay no longer. When that which she had stood so strongly before mere hours earlier, now reduced her to tears. The fears that she had dared not allow herself to feel crashed over her. A tsunami her walls could no longer hold back.

It was her secret, her burden to bear. Evidence hidden behind creams and powders during the day. She would never allow anyone to see what she hid behind her walls, just how much of a toll it took on her to defend them all, no matter what should come their way.

They were her people, she had sworn that she would protect them with her dying breath. That no harm would come to them as long as she stood before them. A sword and shield that would never sway, never falter, and never surrender.

It took her by surprise then, when he saw through her walls. A single glance saw past the lies and deceit all her self-acclaimed friends and companions never thought to question. Saw what she thought was so well hidden behind her creams and powders.

But she saw it in him too, the weight of the crown that nestled within his raven locks. The way he truly felt hidden behind tight smiles and polite laughs. Perhaps it was because she herself knew all the signs, all the ways to hide oneself away. It was why she had no problem confronting him; late one night, when a storm raged around them and those they had sworn to protect were safe within stone walls.

“I hear you crying sometimes when you think no one is listening.” His hand reached out, catching a teardrop as it joined the rainwater leaving streaks down her face. Palm flattening over her cheek as fingers tangled within strands of her hair.

“As I do you.”