Ass(ets)

post mortem

Ella finds herself feeling a little lost. She thinks of her French lessons and how she'd always quite liked the word for lost. Perdu. She'd had a friend called Perdita and had marvelled at her name. She'd thought of her as the lost girl. Perdita, the lost one. How mysterious and elusive to have been named as such. She rather thinks she should be called Perdita now, but for its truest meaning; a lost girl.

It was unnerving feeling this out of sorts. In loosing James she hadn't just lost a lover. She'd lost her friend. She'd lost her companion.

In forming the relationship she'd neglected her other friends just a little too much. At the time this has felt natural, but now... She knows better.

They'd become so involved. So absorbed with each other. They'd been like the Earth and its moon. Revolving and circling around each other in a precise and calculated manner. No room for anyone else.

And now... the boy gone and all is left is a lost girl.

Ella can now truly appreciate just how deeply she and James had fallen into being. She sees how this isn't healthy, and as she slowly reaches out and renews friendships Ella begins to feel more alive, more connected.

But she'd still give almost anything to have James back. She'd felt alive with him. She knows that these thoughts are wrong and you just can't base yourself around a single person. However, she wishes for it all the same.

An orbit.

An exact path.

Her desired path.

All of these thoughts reside in a swirling chaos in her head. She tries to make sense of what she feels and connect it to what she knows is rational. Simply put, this is hard.