Just Another Deal...

Epilogue

Dissipation is twisted, and living in it is tumultuous and tragic. Calm waters surround me, and in this silence, I find no peace. I keep waiting for the waves to crash through me. So long I relished in the suffering, split wounds yearning for love, left to find solace in licking festering wounds. Now I find myself healed but not whole. This splitting ache still mocks me, as the water rises, the calm remains, and I find I'm still drowning. Till the tide recedes, leaving me gasping for breath. Stuck with a scratched DVD, time stops and skips till you don't remember the plot, and frustration and anger teeter on a cliff. Debating the jump or the view, Time doesn't ease the pain, nor stop to wait. Only allowed to ebb and sway, controlled by the current, like a path scary to tread, the depth is frightening. How can I accept this void?

When the chasms of yesterday, now a shallow hole, looking into the trees below as the sun rises, casting a beautiful orange light that melts into pink, the colours are dreamy and remind me of running on rainbows and glitter showers. Such memories are only remembered by a few now. I still recall the day like it happened yesterday.

We stared, stuck lost silence, the sound that echoed off the trees. The sound of my gruncles' voices was a mufffled blur. we..I was going to listen, I wanted to hear, I wanted to let him listen. All my life, he's been listening to everything, all our lives. My feet started moving forward like a crumbling bridge; the ground shook with each step I took forward. this all felt like a dream, like id wake and wed be pulling up to the shack...id spend it all with dipper and maybe wed solve it all togehter...these thoughts rush forward as i see the man beofre me crying like something human and in that moment I can see what he was trying to convey, i fall a foot away watching as the colour red seeps into yellow. 

Shaking myself out of the memories, I recall the aftermath. It was weird and hard and painful, and as I grew, I found myself back in this place, where I would always say my farewells. My gruncles, my friends, all of us came to accept what was in the end a peaceful option, and passed peacefully and happily. He didn't tell us how, nor did he yell; he didn't laugh at our misfortune. He simply explained it all: his role as a guardian to this small, self-contained prison.

After I didn't go back, seeing our parents was hard; they cried like it was hard, but it came too late, the acknowledgement he needed, the reassurance he wanted. We all played a part in the end, and as I grew older, I realised and hope to everything I'll be forgiven and maybe have a chance to see him again. I won't force it, though, as I feel a strong gust of wind blow behind me. I sigh, wondering the meaning as the calm returns afterwards. "Dipper, its been awhile i decided to settle down, the shack has been renovated and finally brought up to code, My daughter is bringing her kid, named after you, couldnt be prouder, she said he just looked like one, someday I hope to see you again, could tell you all about my life" turning around I wipe the tears and allow myself to breathe, walking out into the path, I hear the echo of childrens laughter so distinct and familiar. I smile and continue forward, "My daughter had a kid, how nice. I'll have to knit her a sweater." As I reach the familiar former shack, I sit on the porch's couch and watch as the sky turns everything blue and sombre. Age has mellowed the impulsive person I was, and regrets will probably always haunt me, but I can only let them float away on the wind and move on.