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I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end. —Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca
It was better to buoy her with lies than drown her in a truth that would crush her.
“Hurt is temporary, but harm is long term. And harm can also go much deeper than physical pain.
“Action without intention is like a novice artist slapping clay around, making a mess of it like you are now,” Viv once told her during a particularly grueling training session. “But if you put intention behind your commands, behind every impact on skin, that’s when clay shapes into art. That’s when you can create a masterpiece with a person’s desires.”
“Sometimes I forget,” Viv said, almost in a whisper. “Forget what?” Viv finally looked at her, the yellow streetlights creating a shadow mosaic across her face. “How dangerous wounded animals can be.”
She was ready to be with an open partner who knew all her secrets and still loved her and accepted the damaged, dark parts. She trusted him with her heart as he trusted her with his. It was all so new to her, but she was ready to shed her old skin and the shame and fear secreted away inside it. She was ready to live with a new version of herself.
