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Best friends, and why it's forever

(I got to talk with Dawn tonight and Sunday morning. I chatted with trystan_laryssa, who needs to get a new LJ already because she lost the password to that one, tonight, and on the phone a few days ago, maybe also Sunday. Yay happy people.)

Darkside is the constant in my life. Even that, though, changes. When I was twenty and far more manic, I was rather scary, and he was entirely right to run screaming. We're growing more wise, he and I. I'm quieter, more steadfast. He's ... more himself. And the longer this goes on, the more serious I become.

Either it will work or it won't. And we're best friends still, despite it all. It's a knowledge that sits alongside my human approximation of the Vulcan a'tha (did I spell that right?) with perhaps a more immediate force, because he is the Other who reaches out and touches back with the light of the Other in his eyes. The light in his eyes is the light in my heart.

figment0 once asked me to describe what I felt for Darkside. I was too far in exhaustion and half-trance to hear him grow quieter and quieter as the words found their way out. But they were familiar ones...
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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