My Definition

I am a massive nothing, a troublesome, misty burden to, well, save me, no one at all. I know very little and still pretend I know a lot; we all try that, so there is no room for denial from you!

We, and this time it is all of us that gets involved in this movement, we find ourselves wanting to reach a bit higher than we actually are able to; direction, distance and definition. We aim differently, and this is where I come up with an eternal idea of mine - one can never get too sick of them.

I spread my arms wherever and whenever I can, because my ambition is perfection, which is of course unapproachable and possessed by none of us! And your main question at this point - not that you do not bother yourself wondering, is this girl sane?, but apart from that - your main question should be and I tend to hope that it is, am I not just like this girl whose sanity I am doubting? Because everyone needs their perfection to be close to them, to feel it waiting right behind - or is it just me? Do I fear the day that I will be asked to remove my ghosts, in order to keep my love? Am I that afraid that I will find myself struggling to cry in a white, unfeeling and cold room, while others struggle to keep me in there?

Yes, I am afraid of it all. That is why I am - in my own eyes, at least - so arrogant, cruel and heartless to those that do not exist, and so high-spirited, good-humoured and warm to those that belong to reality.

I want to become what I want, and I am afraid I will not; do you not fear that as well?

Optimism!

I have unveiled some very precious statements that I can't but write down - though I am aware that it makes you dislike me more, for everything is so shiny and joyous, to me there is nothing but love and acceptance!

But for this reason, for your calling me loving and easily impressed, I need to offer the explanation you need.

(Who wants my explanations, really?, I bet you are asking yourself.)

Everything has its good parts - this is not a belief, but a truth. Everything, even the annoying night butterfly that will not let me sleep has its... perks; I do not know them, for I have not studied it, but I am sure it represents a lot to those who have.

Even though I despise it and wish it dead, one day it will save my life.

Everything is good, except a flawed existence - the human being.

I am selfish at times, and even now, I take the responsibility of boring you to death with my philosophical ideas; right. And there are good people and bad people, and no matter their kind, I see only the good in them.

Everything is good, and everything happens for a reason - and I do not blame karma for that, because I believe karma is just fake.

Escape

This insensitive, yet appealing call towards everyone's attention took you a lot to reach. In this misery that our times assured not to disappear easily, you think you found a way to escape. You were my friend once, and that is why I will not point my disapproval in your presence.

This discovery is not original, but that can be seen from great distances, and its message is not at least different from the ones belonging to your side of the world.

This absent difference is randomly placed on the style's account. There are styles in this world, and they are permitted, and perhaps everyone is better off with them, but maybe I am not wrong - just hoping - when admitting that owning a style is optional.

There is a narrow escape for everyone, mine allows me to see that styles are actually labels, and that I should stay away; not too far, not too close - not that up, not so down, and I believe there is no ending to this kind of examples.

I know your thoughts better than you do - you consider I stand too high on those stairs that everyone tries to avoid! Maybe I have climbed to reach my place a little too much, maybe my arm stretched too far, yet when everything is achieved so easily, I cannot say 'no', just to avoid hurting your feelings. Try and stretch your arms until you reach the next step; move with precision and insist on it until it leaves you breathless, just try.

And when it is over, your efforts will have been greater than mine. For I took everything for granted, (and I still do).

Chapter 22 - Epilogue

"I am sorry, Lilian," he whispered as he took her hands, "for having been so distant; I have tried, and trust me, I have tried my best to keep my sentiments to myself - and that, I believe, has made me so peculiar to you; I wish..."

Lilian was overwhelmed by another set of tears as she heard his voice uttering those unexpected words. "Has it?", she sighed, "I thought that was all that you were; so gentle and kind, Mr Barnes," but then she stopped. Then she raised her eyes to face him; she finally dried her last tears and Lilian mumbled, "Edward, how strange it is to me now!"

He smiled, and his smile made her laugh, with no reasonable excuse; Mr Barnes added:

"I am much more than gentle and kind, my dear Lilian; but that you shall soon find, for I believe our story shall not end, ever."

Our beloved Miss Barton soon became, unsurprisingly though, Mrs Barnes - her young mind could not remember however the numerous times that she had worried about another young lady's achievement of the title, all that she thought of after the ceremony was concerning their future only.

Mr Barnes was soon found to be wealthier than had been stated - not much, however, only two thousand pounds more than his previously-declared ten thousand - yet, to Lady Elizabeth this was a fine discovery, (indeed, she felt happier at the thought of it than Lilian herself did!) and despite Lilian's efforts to tame her joy, her mother visited them as often as her health and resources permitted.

Her visits may have been short, for she was needed in Hertfordshire as well - but both Lilian and Mr Barnes knew it.

Fields

In a green haven she'll be found

Staring at memories of her will

And the expectations she will count

Then leave them on that hill.

In mortifying sadness she'll be asked

Why everything is so dark and hollow

And the answer she won't try to mask

She has nothing else to follow.

 

But she is not me, and I will ever deny

Untrue remarks and uttered threats

I at least try, and hope not to lie

When the sun I love sets.