[Ginia is too angry, too hurt, too cold, too raw to write anything back right away, so she puts down her phone and steps away.
"What I actually wanted."
What does anyone want here? It's the question that's been haunting Ginia all month. Her wants, the wants of the others in her temple, what people can do for her to help her. Again and again since the ablution, people have checked on her and cared for her. Some in helpful ways, others in ways that did more harm than good. Her best interest. Their best interest.
Wants. Needs. Desires. Ginia mulls over it as she beats on a heavy bag in the training room, takes a long soak in the outdoor hot spring and stares at the forest surrounding the temple. She enjoys her new presents, spends time with the men of her temple and reminds herself what she's here to protect. What she wants to protect.
Eventually, a reply comes in, late in the evening.]
I don't know if I quite forgive you yet, but I don't hate you either. I barely know you, you barely know me. It's my fault I was there, my fault for getting in the crossfire.
Maybe I would have done the same thing in the same situation. I don't know. Maybe I'll find out one day. Hopefully I won't.
I hope things are better for you this time around.
I don't know if I'll come to the vigil, but it's a good idea. I hope it helps people.
no subject
"What I actually wanted."
What does anyone want here? It's the question that's been haunting Ginia all month. Her wants, the wants of the others in her temple, what people can do for her to help her. Again and again since the ablution, people have checked on her and cared for her. Some in helpful ways, others in ways that did more harm than good. Her best interest. Their best interest.
Wants. Needs. Desires. Ginia mulls over it as she beats on a heavy bag in the training room, takes a long soak in the outdoor hot spring and stares at the forest surrounding the temple. She enjoys her new presents, spends time with the men of her temple and reminds herself what she's here to protect. What she wants to protect.
Eventually, a reply comes in, late in the evening.]
I don't know if I quite forgive you yet, but I don't hate you either. I barely know you, you barely know me. It's my fault I was there, my fault for getting in the crossfire.
Maybe I would have done the same thing in the same situation. I don't know. Maybe I'll find out one day. Hopefully I won't.
I hope things are better for you this time around.
I don't know if I'll come to the vigil, but it's a good idea. I hope it helps people.