1The rustling of the gentle wind gliding through the leaves lulled me into a dreamlike state. Under the maple tree I sat, thinking; Who am I?
I didn't exactly know. I was a woman of many faces. One who constantly changed herself to meet the expectations of others. To me, one's a crowd
But I didn't mind the crowd when I was with Lillia. She was just about the only genuine thing in my little world of lies and illusions. I remember our little adventures by the creek. I remember how I felt when I wasn't around her. Lost. Hopeless. Miserable. Yet for some reason, at peace.
These days, I can only remember portions of our adventures together. It's just a hazy blur of events. A reflection of the person I used to be. For my life back then was merely a dream. I am just a castaway from this strange little realm called reality.
Am I living a dream or a nightmare? I cannot
tell, for their pain no longer differs in my eyes. It's complicated, see? I'm complicated.
My heart is a jigsaw puzzle, broken apart and pieced together so many times that I've gotten used to it. My mind is just a figure of patience. It remains in a never ending trance, waiting for a day that may never come.
The day I see her again. If I could do it all again, I would. I'd suffer all of the pain, all of the sacrifice; Just to be able to play my songs on my little tin whistle, while my friend listens to every noise I blow. It was my silent orchestra, just me and my whistle. And my audience, consisting of Lillia and the nature. Notes carried by the breeze, fading into a soft and gentle harmony. Those notes just like my life.
So here I stand today, wishing to go back. Dreaming of moments forever lost, and waiting for a better day to come. Forever hoping that I could once again know who I really am.