Inner Bipolar Love Story

Her hands were wet; her face was wet. The sky was deeply black overhead, seeming to hold Leizah close in a private evening moment. In this time of privacy she was able to gaze inward, in towards that space that was uniquely hers; her mind, and no one else’s. The thoughts she had scattered about in there blinked, glimmered; all the brighter for the lack of physical light all around her. “In an empty sea of space, there is everything to dream about,” Leizah thought. She was shedding tears, and they were falling; glistening drops; into the empty space. A more hopeful part of Leizah stopped them mid-fall, magic’d them frozen, and set the light of hope burning inside. Tears continued to fall, and they froze in place, and were lit up. All around her the sky was deeply black; all within her was a night sky full of stars. A smaller Leizah gazed up at them in wonder, wondering where stars come from, and somehow feeling that she knew EXACTLY where they come from. The tearful Leizah who made the stars looked down on the little girl with love; admired her openness, her curiousity, the fearlessness with which she walked under stars alone. In a moment of inspiration, she breathed well-wishes down through the imaginary sky to ruffle the little girl’s hair.

“No! It COULDN’T be…” Just as little Leizah was thinking; feeling; KNOWING the thought of wind, a breeze had started up! It was a warm gust rushing around her, reviving the cold, starlit night. “What does it mean?” She wondered.

The tearful Leizah was taken aback. Her little imaginary friend under the imaginary stars made from tears had seemed genuinely thrilled to feel the wind. What was imaginary, and what was real? Such questions only get taken seriously in the dead of night, and are forgotten in the glaring light of the day. “But really, how REAL is the day, anyway?” the tearful Leizah asked. With its silly people, and its boys with no ability to love, and its jobs that seemed determined to paint the world gray… It was only her fancy, but it did really seem that, if there was a less “real” world, it was that dreary daylight one. Right now, outside, with an imaginary friend that shared her name (but not her size), Leizah was having a much more poignant, more REAL experience than she’d had in months (and this sentiment would subconsciously affect her day-to-day choices for years to come). Inside her thoughts, under the sky full of tears-made-into-stars-by-hope, the smaller Leizah decided that it didn’t matter where the perfectly timed wind had come from. It had felt good, and she could go back inside now feeling better than before. The tearful Leizah took note of this, and offered a prayer that she could receive some optimism herself.

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Howl was born in the wastes north of Hithlum, where only beasts and witches dare roam. He was raised by two old hags, Tabby and Wiles, who had an unhealthy fascination towards the literary arts. Howl now resides in a well-furnished cave off South Rim Trail, complete with an old iBook and Wi-Fi.