Journal Entry

Dear Diary,

I sit here once again in the shade of the ancient willows- on my favorite moss covered stone near the river. Naked except for the violets and morning glories in my hair. Home once again in the depths of these ancient woods. I am relieved to be back... although I must admit I am lamenting. I am writing this to relieve my heart of this sorrow.

This story began in the spring when I set out for the village to bring some alchemical medicine to the apothecary. The journey to the village is two days on foot so naturally I intended to stay a couple days. On the first day I was there I met a young man who happened to be the innkeeper of a very quaint charming inn which I decided to stay at. We began talking, and the young man had so many intriguing stories of far off lands and even ships on the ocean.. we were up all night talking. Although he was talking and I kept quiet, I also made sure to keep my slightly pointed ears covered.

The more time we spent talking the more we wanted to spend time together... and before I knew it really... we were clearly in love. "This can't be" I told myself "I can't love a human..." But I did.. He wrote me love songs and I made him soup, I even showed him the healing plants around the village and how to use them. we were ecstatic for a time, he made me feel so loved and protected. The village used to frighten me to a degree, but I felt safe being there with him.

He knew by this time of my origins in the woods, when he had asked about my pointed ears, and how I knew so much about plants... I hesitantly told him the truth. But his love did not waiver, not even for a second. He pulled me close and told me he didn't care- in fact he was intrigued. And he reassured me he would protect me and my secrets with his life. And from the look in his eye- I knew he meant it with his whole heart. The love was pure, theres not a doubt in me about it... But you see, overtime I started to question how well I fitted into his world. I loved him. But a part of me ached for the ancient willows I knew as home. I feared too that although he would gladly have me for his whole life... that I could never have him for mine. He was mortal, I was eternal. And my heart ached at that. Deeply ached.

During this time I would take long pondering walks along the creek that ran near to the village. I knew of our destined incompatibility before I admitted I loved him... but oh the love was so pure I had to stay for a time. And the paradox between the purity of our love- yet the difference between us- was driving me mad. Driving me to tears. Driving me to yell at the very nature of creation. A mortal man with a heart of gold- thats what he was. But me? what was I in this story? An Elven maiden in denial of her truth? In denial of the fact that I was an ancient part of the forest. That I had work to do in this realm no mortal would understand. The ancient moss and trees from deep within the woods I had left were tugging at my heart, reminding me of my work- I missed my home. I was itching to get back. I was itching to return , to resume my work of transcribing the wisdom of the heart of the land. And making sacred alchemical medicines. The work of the Elven people was not just for mere income. The work of the Elven people was sacred duty. weaving wisdom of the heart of the land into the human world through words and medicines so one day... when the world of mortal men had forgotten and would be consumed by chaos.. there would be keys and codes in ancient texts and in plant medicines for those who knew how to commune with nature and the source of all life.. keys and codes to restore the garden realms and neutralize the chaos that was bound to ensue... So you see, the work of the Elven people is sacred duty and that is why my heart ached. I felt therefore consumed by inner chaos, tied up in knots of it... for I loved him. But my heart knew I had to go home...

So one late summer evening drinking wildflower elixers and watching fireflies together. I told him what had been on my heart- how the ancient willows were calling me to return to my sacred duties. How although I loved him I could not stay. He said nothing. He just pulled me close and I felt a tear of his land in my hair. I think in that moment I felt his heart break. We held each other all night in tears. I left at the break of dawn to not prolong the pain of goodbye.

So dear diary I write this because my heart is aching with a story no one will really understand. Not even him. How the call of ancient willows and moss covered stones called me home from such a beautiful yet mortal love. How sacred duty was stronger than romance. "How can that be so?" I ask myself. My story does not sound like a love story. But I know the only ones who understand truly are the poets who's heart feels the pull of the ancient willows and moss covered stones, the ones who feel the call to sacred duty no matter how strong the love.. but there aren't many I tell you, there aren't many who understand my hearts lament. I hold this love story in my heart and I wish the best for this golden hearted mortal man. But I stay in the woods, naked with flowers in my hair making alchemical medicines and communing with the wise mushrooms, transcribing the wisdom of the heart of the land leaving a legacy of codes and keys for humanity to use as a map home one day... work no mortal would understand...

This is my hearts lament.

- Guardian of the Flowers