The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixty-Five :.

My name is Elliot Parker and recently I have been on my best behaviour… mostly.

That’s not to say my patience hasn’t been tested. I noticed something but since I noticed it I started seeing more of it. Clover is being very territorial. Has been for a few weeks now. Like she keeps making a point of telling me that her baby daddy Ben has been relying on her more emotionally, or how much closer they have gotten but she is still obsessing over some other boys. Both of whom stopped talking to her. It’s the making a point of it and being territorial and trying to put me in the place she has assigned for me. Never a good idea to do.

It just gets my back up, I don’t think I have ever responded well to being told what to do, who to be, what I cannot do. It’s like one of the first things people tend to discover about me. I tend to either act out or follow it and get miserable and resentful… safe to say miserable is not something I am willing to feel.

The only thing stopping me from acting out is the fact she is a friend and is insecure right now. And to be honest, she can dangle her territorial talk all she likes, I don’t want what she thinks I am after.

I am both her and Ben’s friend, she hasn’t liked that in the past and right now I don’t care. He can do what he likes and so can she.

I guess I am just tired of this being told what to do by other people thing. I guess I am stubborn and difficult and I really don’t see why she feels threatened by my damn existence. She is always the one who gets the guy, they fancy her, I am just the nerdy friend in the shadows. She is the one who heads for the guy you fancy to snag them first. Working out how to tell her to stop trying to control or manipulate me in a tactful way is being very hard.

I want to find a way to make it clear to her that the only guy I am interested in is Adrian. Which she knows. Mind you what others think of me doesn’t really matter.

I know who I am and what I want and I refuse to be told otherwise. What other people think doesn’t matter, not really. Why do I seem to keep having to tell myself the same things? Because I stopped working at being a deliberate creator looking to the future, instead I have been looking at what is even if what is doesn’t matter.

I keep looking at the what-is-ness of things. That will change.

My name is Elliot Parker, I was lazy in my thinking and forgot that I am a deliberate creator.

I can have whatever I want in my life. I know that, I know that things with Clover will get better. I know that I will stop noticing when her behaviour is not pleasing to me because I will be consistently trying to view here in a way that pleases me. I know that she will be the mature adult I know she thinks she wants to be. I know that things will be good again.

What else do I know?

I know that I am becoming the person that I want to be, I am that person it has already been agreed. I know that the what-is-ness will not be so important or matter nearly as much. I know that I can enjoy being a deliberate creator again. I know that I am a powerful deliberate creator. I am comfortable in the knowing that everything is working out for me, always. I know that when I am ready, Adrian and I will have another chance, when I find myself to be an energy match to what I am desiring. I know that there is nothing that I have to or need to do right now. I have nothing I have to do to make anything happen, there is no making anything happen, there is only being a match to that which you attract. I know that Adrian and I are coming to the best position we have ever been in to be a brilliant co-creating match, an eternally expanding in our togetherness co-creating match. It feels good to know that. It feels so good to know that that I can appreciate it already without the physical evidence or awareness of what is missing. Because I am looking forward to that future wonderfulness that I have amassed for my future. I like being able to appreciate knowing, I like being able to appreciate believing, I like being able to appreciate that I can choose and change my beliefs. I like the freedom and expansiveness of the world around me. I like knowing that I can change my life easily by just choosing to feel good.

Appreciation feels good. It feels great. It feels steadying and wonderful and fun and eager. I like that I can appreciate the transformation and confirmation of beliefs that serve me and choosing that I can carry forward what believes serve me and abandon those that don’t. I like feeling so free and fun and ready. I like feeling this way. I like feeling bright and expansive. I like watching the birds that fly in the sky in and watching how I am just as free. Something I have always admired about birds. I like the free feeling. I like the fun; excitement I have with my future. I am eager to be thankful of so much. I am so happy to just be happy that there is a world of possibilities for my future. I like enjoying the freedom of choice. I just like this rampage of good feeling thoughts. I am sassy, feisty, sexy and I am alive!

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixty-Four :.

My name is Elliot Parker and I don’t know how I feel right now.

You see, the brief conversations I have with Adrian are different, he is encouraging me to do things that make me happy. I suppose he has given up the fight of getting me to be very practical and just come to an acceptance that I am not a practical person. I want to be happy and put myself first and that is what I am doing. I suppose I just wish it would be easier to not feel so conflicted in my decision, I know that it is silly, to feel conflicted about putting happiness over practicality.

Time is flying by so fast. I can’t work out how or why it is speeding by so quickly.

I can’t help myself, I keep looking back at things, I keep trying to remember how I felt when I was younger, who I was. I keep trying to find a way to be ok with my more negative traits, to be ok with the darker side of me, the dangerous side. The part of me that wants to lash out and hit back at those that hurt me or try to control me. The part of me that wants to be defiant. The part of me that is unwilling to keep being put into a place that other people think I should be and should stay. The side of me that doesn’t want to be what people expect of me. Perhaps being dangerous is just a translation of me putting myself first. Perhaps being dangerous is feeling confident and self-assured and going for what I want. Perhaps being dangerous not feeling guilty about who I am, not feeling like I should be apologetic for what I want.

I am hungry for my life to be happy and fulfilled.

Honestly, I am struggling to decide what I want in my life. What I am willing to compromise, what I am willing to stand up for.

I suppose I feel reflective, life is so short and time is flying by and right now I feel like I don’t know what I am doing. I know what I want to do, who I want to be, I keep trying to believe that I can do it and believe that I can be that person, I just don’t know how to do both, how to be both the best of me and the best of the worst in me. How can I accept myself? When I want to do so much, so many different things, jack of all trades and master of none. What if I want to be the Jack of all trades who masters some, how do I do that? How do I split my time? How do I prioritize all that I want? What is best for me?

I know I keep trying to convince myself I am sure and certain and know what I want the most. I keep trying to convince myself everything will always work out for me. So much so it has started to become a belief.

That’s the thing, while you know and believe in more, in the law of attraction, but you are still having this human experience and all that comes with contrast. Sometimes the contrast is so vast that it is easy to get lost in confusion, that is what makes being decisive hard. I just have to hope that it will always work out.

I just want to sleep and dream for so long. I want to dream about being in the room, I want to see Adrian, however bittersweet. I even want to dream about the stowaway girl again. I like watching the dream grow and change and somehow ends up influenced by the world around me, the subconscious and conscious work hand in hand. I suppose my battle is more to do with wanting to live more in dreams than in reality. Reality just feels and seems to be so unimportant sometimes. I suppose that explains how I feel so calm about putting happiness first over practicality and what is expected of me. My disassociation to reality. My disassociation with myself. I don’t recognise myself in the mirror, I haven’t for years. I don’t recognise myself as a person. Sure I am stronger and more compassionate but I am also healthier. Now I am trying to accept the things I don’t like about myself, and make the best out of the worst of me. I am trying to accept the things in me I don’t like and find a way to like them so that they can’t control me. I don’t want to feel like the darker side of me can be exposed but that it is already exposed, there is nothing to hide and I want to be ok with who I am. I want to be stronger by accepting what would be called flaws or quirks and turn them into strengths. I don’t want to look at myself and see the monster within controlling me, the darker side of my personality. I want to look at myself and see it in a new way, a better way.

I want it to be ok for me to be selfish and not feel guilty about what I want or what I decide to do in my life. I want to be able to do the right thing for me first and then I can extend that to others, but until I can do that I will keep feeling this conflicted. I know that I am consistently fighting to be the best in me, and when I am with Adrian it is easier to be the best in me because I forget the worst because even though it is there it is not the weakness I think it is otherwise. He makes me better, iron sharpens iron and I hope I make him better too, I hope that we make each other better and stronger and healthier.

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixty-Three :.

My name is Elliot Parker… Except right now, it’s not.

My silence has said more than I wanted to express. I sit here in silence as day turns to night and night to day. It spins by and my refusal to speak stops me inflicting damage. That doesn’t mean the rage inside hasn’t leaked out to the world around me. The sea has been rough for days. If I unleashed it, if I speak, if I say anything, I might not be able to stop. If I can’t control myself, this ship will be smashed to pieces. I don’t know if “the Captain” could stop me.

Somehow I battle with myself, if I let myself tear this ship to splinters I could break away and runaway, again. But if I runaway, heaven knows what might happen. I might be somewhere I don’t want to be. I am locked in my own body on a ship stuck with the very person I was running from. I never really escaped, I never really ran away, not how I wanted. I am being pulled back. Do I hate him more for lying? I know I lied, at first, now, it is better to stay silent then get pulled back in. Do I… Can I even hate him? I mean, was it all really an act on his part. Was any of it just an act on my part? Is there any way it was just an act and nothing more? Can I convince myself that my heart never skipped a beat? Not one single heart fluttering moment was real? Is there any way to back out now, am I really going to be locked back into this?

If he takes me back to my home, what awaits me? How angry will my parents be? I mean after all, if they lose their own control, like I am afraid of doing right now, they could reduce the kingdom to ash. I might be powerful on my own, but two uncontrolled rage plus there is no doubt I would react, it could turn the land to ash and then what? I’ll be the unforgiven petulant girl who ran away who runs away again, if it is possible a second time.

“What do my parents know?” My unused voice is cracked and broken. It snaps “the Captain” out of his thought staring out the window. He rushes around his desk and kneels in front of me. I tried to read his face but I am weak. My lips are dry and the only thing that passed them is the broth he forces down my throat to stop me from wasting to nothing altogether. If he is wearing a mask, I can’t see it. I don’t speak again.

“They know you came with me, I had them told we were getting to know each other on a short cruise.”

“They don’t know?”

“No, the blue and cream, they were sent to find me, they found out about the destroyed ship and they were the search party, it’s why the resistance was weak to us taking the ship.” I feel my silence resume. It’s the first time I listened to what he said. I’ve tuned him out for days. Put myself in a bubble and he knows it. I allow myself to slide back away from the room, he can see it as my gaze becomes unfocused, he tries to stop me. He shakes me and I keep backing away building the walls up around me. He tries to pull me back again.

My parent’s didn’t even know I ran away; they might never have to know. I could follow his lies, that we went away to get to know each other. I could go along with the story, I could just look like for once I was being compliant with what they wanted for me, for the kingdom. They might not hate me forever if they found out the truth, I’m not in the worst position with being an only child. I can see through the unfocused gaze “the Captain” has left the room.

I stand and walk over to his desk, his stolen desk. It is the blue and cream’s ship after all. The draws are all locked, I can’t remember them being opened. I kneel by the draws, I take a deep breath before I begin to try to pick the lock, I’m not the first to try, but maybe I will have better luck, a few minutes pass that feel like hours before I crack the lock and open the draw. Stacks of papers. Sketches of “the Captain” his name scrawled below it Prince Adrian Ferislekraig. That name rings so many bells, like a forgotten talk, a forgotten discussion, a forgotten argument with family. Like a hollow moment in a past that is lost to the minor moments of an argument, a look of disappointment… the reverse of a sketch, “day walker” is scrawled hastily on the back. I see a sketch of myself the brief scribble on the back, “rescue- wanted unharmed” my name looks so strange scrawled by my image, an old handwriting so familiar that I can’t quite place. Princess Ellainor Parkrovia. I hear footsteps on deck approaching.

I replace the sketches in the draw and pick the lock to close it before I am seen. I stand unsteady and sit in the chair and turn so that I am staring out of the window, the first time I have spoken in days, the first time I have moved willingly in days, that is all he will see as I stare aimlessly out at the water rolling at the ship, the “Captain” strides into the room. I feel my movement register on his face. “First you speak, now you move, not hatching a new escape plan are you?”

I shake my head to say no and keep my eyes on the water. What the hell does day walker mean? Until I can dig some more I will refuse to speak, to ask anything.

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixty-Two :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

Sometimes I like to dream, often I like to dream. I like escaping to other worlds. I like being able to see the energies of the universe transforming around me, I guess that is why I like the stowaway girl dreams. I get to be someone else. I like being someone else. Because right now, I have this day dream in my head.

I know how I want things to be, how I want to feel. How I would love to be in Adrian’s arms right now. The most perfect thing for me right now…

Is it bad to tell a day dream? I mean, this is my diary, if I can’t share my thoughts and feelings here, where can I?

There is the day dream in my head, of Adrian and I lying in bed. The covers drawn up around us and cups of tea steaming away on the side table. There’s something silly on the TV and we are curled up together, all warm and cosy and I just feel safe and warm and happy. How I normally feel in his arms. That at peace feeling being in our own world like nothing else matters.

I love that around him I get to be myself, I love that we are one hundred percent who we are around each other. I would love for him to be able to not get into his own way so often, but it is ok that he just feels comfortable around me and makes that time for us to relax right now.

It’s not my only day dream for us. It’s not the only way I think about him.

I love how he smiles when we kiss. I love how he jabs and pokes my back (even if it sometimes is a little too hard or annoying) when I am laying in his arms. It just feels so at home comfortable. I love how we just seem to fit together. I love how his arms wrap around me. I love how he pulls me into kisses. I love how he laughs. I just feel like I don’t have to be anyone or anything else.

It’s those happy thoughts that keep me smiling at the moment.

After the recent crazy manifestations, it’s just nice to smile at a memory, at a day dream. Somehow even my dreams are getting more complicated, the stowaway girl dreams are just a challenge sometimes. Somewhere between romantic and evasive and just like a story. I like the idea of just being with and needing someone and not feeling shut out by them when there is emotional honesty. I like the not running away from each-other-ness. I like that dream because there is just that open honesty. I started bringing it into my “real” life. I started taking brave risks.

It’s like playing a game with lady luck when I start taking risks that aren’t risks. He is away for a year; things could work out if we tried?

So what is the best that I can do at the moment? I mean honestly, what is the best outcome? I get what I want, I get him, I get us. Until then?

I guess I can just focus on me, on my manifestations directly consistently about me not requiring his participation as being a co-creator.

So what do I want for me without needing anyone to co-create?

Abundance in wealth and health and wellbeing. I want to enjoy being me, I want to love the skin I am in. I want to have my own adventures. I want to win the lottery, who doesn’t? I want to improve my career. I want to stay motivated and determined. I want to be happy. I want people around me I trust. I want to keep being deliberate about what I am creating. I enjoy being deliberate and not creating by default. I know being happy is the best chance and choice I have right now.

That’s the thing isn’t it? When you are honestly truly happy you attract whatever it is that you want. I love that, attracting what I want by just being happy.

I didn’t expect making this year the year for me would be this much work, that doesn’t feel like the right word. It’s an almost effort that doesn’t need to be an effort. It gives him a chance to be the man he wants to be. I am the woman I want to be, almost, I want more confidence. That is something the stowaway girl has in buckets that I don’t. She has that whole I am woman and I know who I am vibe. I want to manifest that I can conquer the world kind of confidence. I want to be challenging myself. I want to start doing things that would normally scare me.

I feel like I am getting ready to conquer the world even if I don’t have my safe place in the same country anymore. I take the risks and the energy they bring and what is to stop me from moving past the things that scare me? I can do it? Can’t I?

Maybe he won’t even recognise me when he sees me next. If I keep changing like this, and allowing myself to be the whole of me, soon I will be able to do so many things that I thought I couldn’t do just like I thought I couldn’t be the girl I am now. I didn’t think I could be this person, this honestly happy, strong woman who is doing the best deliberate creating.

It’s that energy you get before you leap into something with both feet and just see where you land. Maybe I will learn to fly. It feels possible. I keep trying to reach for that better feeling thought all the time and I get there more often than not. I keep changing and getting better and feeling better, I don’t recognise myself in the mirror, I haven’t for a very long time. I don’t even recognise old photos of me, if I didn’t know better, I would ask who is that person.

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixty-One :.

My name is Elliot Parker. I think that I surprised him. Waiting for the typing to turn into a message felt like the longest wait on earth. What I got as a reply was traditionally him.

“Yeah course I’m gonna call ya. But your gonna fucking hate me now, I’m finally getting around to watching the new Potter movie.” Some things never change.

Sometimes it is what remains unsaid that I hear through the energy. I knew, I know that my message made him smile.

That’s the most beautiful thing in the world to me so nothing compares to the joy of just knowing that he smiled.

Nothing compares to the joy and the happiness. Especially in my new bed time routine. I have a little message that I say to myself each night and then I play a game. I list the great things, the things that I desire that I get to manifest and I go to sleep feeling that bit happier, that bit more at peace and excited and I don’t even notice when I fall asleep.

I got my day dreams back. I thought I had lost them but I brought back the day dreams and the being able to picture things. It’s like a special all naturally energy that is akin to the ecstasy of love. It’s a special kind of thing to be addicted to. Addicted to happiness, I never thought I would say that, I wouldn’t have thought it could be possible. Finding happiness and peace in stressful, crazy situations? Impossible. Or at least it should be but hell somehow I have cracked this thing where I can just let myself be in clarity in any situation. Clarity is the most amazing feeling. Freedom is a great feeling too and I have both.

It sort of feels like the fire has been put out before it has been lit. I don’t know if that makes sense at all, like in the craziest situations I’m observing the action unfolding from a further seat, like the reality slows down and my mind works faster and sharper. I just don’t quite know how to express it with other people. Like I know that I have stopped beating myself up about the past and the chains that held me down by some miracle have somehow fallen away. I enjoy that just not feeling frantic and confused. I’m no longer feeling like I am trying to play catch up or cross fast flowing rivers to get what I want.

I think more than anything taking those risks and not being concerned about the immediate pay off just seems like I have just taken control of my life and manifestations. The words I am a deliberate creator no longer feel like I am trying to convince myself that is what I am. It just feels like a knowing. Like the knowing that everything will always work out for me.

It feels like there is something kind of weightless when I walk. Like a quiet shadow? I don’t know. I am just finally coming to terms with it being ok to love myself. It doesn’t feel like an impossible mission.

Adrian responded with a degree of sincerity and he wanted to diffuse the tension he imagined there to be. I didn’t say it for agenda. I said it for me, it was my rampage and my complete honesty with how I felt. Whatever happens, being honest with myself and moving through life believing the best is what I want to do. He imagined the tension he felt, it was his pinching off from source energy, I know how that feels and I recognise that feeling. But I feel it less now.

I keep trying to find the words to describe what it feels like when you stop pinching off from yourself and just allow yourself. I mean I am consistently working with ease to improve my allowing my whole self to be wholly present in every moment. It’s not always easy, it’s not always natural, well its always natural to allow, but the pinching off is the unnatural thing that hurts. But habit can sometimes be a pinching off thing, a particular learned behaviour can sometimes be just as much trouble. Sometimes you just have to do what that song says and let it go.

I suppose that’s why I don’t worry so much about taking risks, because they aren’t risks but it is just the only word we really know for that kind of action. I am sure there are better words, and calculated risk sounds wrong, it is still a risk to the old me. But this time. It’s more a different way of allowing. A thought free one, instinctual. It comes from a place, an impulse that you can’t rationalise, I just wish I had a better way to put what I feel into words sometimes. I am sure it will come to me.

Just like I can feel it in my soul that there is no need to be concerned about the silence between Adrian and I since he took his flight. I selfishly wish he had stayed, but I know he is doing what he thinks he needs to do that will make him happy and I can’t blame or judge him for that. Hell, I am doing the exact same, just I am following my gut and following my passion. There is no way that I could ever stop following what I am passionate about. It just feels too good to just be happy in my own world in my own way. I get that he has set beliefs on what he needs to do, what he believes is responsible. I just gave up believing that being responsible will make me happy. I don’t need to hold myself accountable for anything that is beyond my control. The only thing in my control is how I respond and how I feel and I sure as hell will make sure that the aim is always reaching for that better feeling thought.

The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Sixty :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

Waking up from the dream, the ghost tears felt real now. Waking up at three thirty-three in the morning, my time. Nothing short of magical to wake at three thirty-three in the morning and feel that kind of connection. I just feel like a walk in the sunset but you can’t really do that at three thirty something now in the morning. Instead I lay there and close my eyes, I take one deep breath and then another, and soon I see colours on the backs of my eyelids, swirling colours. I begin to think of that walk, the way the sun looks disappearing with streaks of reds and ambers bleeding the blue of the sky. The brisk cold air filling my lungs and splashing my face as I walk. The warmth of the coat around me and the hot heat of a hard walk in every muscle. The music in my ears. The cold ice of the air, making my nose red. I let it fill my every breath and every thought. Just the falling away of my existence, the falling away of the reality. This time the tears that fall are from the cold whipping wind. Nothing is more beautiful. It’s the kind of view that you just want to capture forever.

Is it running away or just loosing yourself? I miss loosing myself in other worlds like this, where the clarity is so unmistakeable. In a place where every risk pays off and you can have what you want in your life just by writing it. If that was possible I know what I would want, him, us, that back together-ness. I could have it my way, I could have everything. Isn’t that what happens in the stories, there’s a rough patch, things change, people change and then somehow they fall back together and things work out perfectly. The whole happy ever after thing. I want to live that, however much I wouldn’t openly admit it, I believe in it and with him, I want it.

Sometimes, being in touch with how you feel, can be a little overwhelming. Sometimes just wanting silence from yourself. No thoughts, just awe with the world around you and peace, sometimes it’s the thing that you want more than anything. Something to cleanse your soul. I know that it doesn’t sound like it, but I do love that I am finding ways to allow the whole of me, but more than anything, sometimes I just want to wash the fog away, you know the fog of trying to work out what it is you want and what everyone else wants from you. To just wash all of the ties and responsibilities away and let the ocean sweep over your very soul.

The thing is right now, for once, things with Adrian feel stable. Even when I am taking the biggest risks. I let him know a second chance was possible. I’ve become so much braver. Sometimes, I just struggle, because I don’t recognise myself. I don’t know where the last few years have gone, I don’t know where many years of my life have gone, boxed up and repressed for my own happiness.

These risks with Adrian, they may not seem like they are paying off, there’s no calculable results but they are there, especially on my side. The payoff is enormous. It feels better to be braver, it doesn’t feel like I am being brave. It feels like I am allowing myself most of all in that moment and it can only work out for me in the best way.

Last night, it was the night before Adrian flies, it’s the first trip he’s been home and I haven’t seen him, it’s been so hard as it is. I let him know that even if I can’t see him before he leaves I hope he has a safe trip. He said something sweet back, he hoped I stayed safe and wished me luck with the books. He’s never said that before.

I had to ask him if this was goodbye, it felt strange. It wasn’t goodbye. I asked him to keep in touch while he was out there. I just didn’t want him to think that there was an end to me wanting him in my life. He is such a huge part of it.

So I took a chance and I sent him another one of those, risks… in a message. It wasn’t me trying to achieve anything, it wasn’t with an agenda or motive. It was just me wanting to share what was in my heart at that particular moment, my own rampage filled with pure unconditional love.

“Promise you will keep in touch. Cos you are in my life for good and forever now. I wrote about you before I even met you. Writers immortalise the people they love and you are already immortalised in one of the stories that I have written, so that’s that. You are a life changing event and though it’s taken us a long time to get here I would do it all again. You helped me become the very best version of myself, the me that I had the potential to be that was out of reach, the best is still getting better.

I’m a better woman, a better friend, a better writer and a better everything for having you in my life. I owe you the biggest thank you the world could ever offer so I honestly do wish you a sincerely happy life.

I’ve immortalised you in other stories, so you are truly eternal, I hope that you can understand that the love I have for you is unconditional; at your best and your worst for all time. Whatever we may be and wherever we may be that doesn’t change.

I say this with complete sincerity, thank you for all that you are in my life and for your existence. You are loved, unconditionally and unendingly and appreciated beyond measure.”

Waiting for those two blue ticks suddenly felt like the riskiest thing in the world.

Out now! Want to see the next installment ahead of time? Can’t wait to find out what happens next? Get a cheeky little preview in the kindle book and see what happens after that risky text… 

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Nine :.

My name is Elliot Parker, and the dusty room filled with books is materialising around me like a sea.

“Elliot?” His voice, even here makes my heart skip a beat.

“Adrian, you called me here?” I look at the books in the room around me, still tidy.

“I wanted to talk to you. I am going away again.” My heart sinks.

“I know, you said” the distance between us, however short in this room feels like gulfs sometimes.

“I didn’t say no to you. Did you notice?” He sounds like a hopeful child, wanting you to see some marvellous effort.

“When I said about second chances?”

“Yeah.” His smile is so hopeful it’s starting to hurt.

“I noticed. Looks like you are leaking through, not a straight no, less pinching off, just because you won’t physically be in the same country doesn’t mean that the second chance is invalid.” I watch the smile on his face, the little twitch as the corners of his mouth move as his smile becomes a grin.

“I know, it was the best I could do, I’m still pinched off, just I wanted to say thank you for helping, you are showing him, you are here the same as in the reality, you managed to allow your full self. We can see it, it is causing the changes in us, you know that right?” The way the separation talks from his physical and his soul pinched off hurts, I know it does, I remember that hurt.

“Yes. But that can’t be all you wanted to talk about.” I want to know everything he called me here for, but there is never enough time together.

“It’s not, after that hell of a day, we wanted to make sure you were ok, you know, he, we, we want you safe.” I can’t help but smile,

“Why is it, our best heart to hearts are here?”

“Because, I think, you already know, our souls are linked now.” Whether it is what we want or not, I know we are linked.

“Love does that doesn’t it?” He nods. I bridge the gap between us and walk over to him. “I know he is changing, I can see it, he didn’t have to tell me what I already knew. He keeps making this point, he’s asking for advice but it’s asking for advice and sharing things with me in a way that didn’t really happen before. He tells me about some girl who wants him or another that wanted a particular kind of favour from him and he tells me. He says to me that he says no to them and what they desire is not what he wants and lets me know that he said no.”

“But he, I, we haven’t said no to you.” Like he is offering the piece of a puzzle I didn’t already know.

“Precisely, it’s like you’re consciously trying to tell me to listen that you’ve not said ‘no’ you’ve evaded it saying that you won’t be in the country.”

“I’ve not given up on you. I can’t give you up. Listen to me, in reality, he’s still pinched off but now he is seeing that its ok to allow the whole of him, little by little. You showed us it was possible, how we hurt you and look at how you transformed. You became this soul that shines in this world and in reality and we can see your allowing yourself like a beacon showing us that it is possible. You don’t give up your connection with yourself. We are becoming the man you deserve.”

I can feel the ghost of a tear and I know it’s from the physical world. I am crying in my sleep, I can’t but let out a small smile.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“We don’t either. Just don’t give up on us.” I haven’t so far, I don’t think it could be possible.

“I love you, unconditionally. Promise you will never forget that.” He nods, I can’t stop myself from reaching up and pulling him into a kiss. My whole body feels like its glowing and sparking from top to toe, inside and out. I remember this feeling, it’s the feeling I’ve had in his arms. When we first saw each other after the messy break up and months of quiet, when we finally saw each other. I just remember this feeling being in his arms. It’s like a golden light coming from within, like the most intensely perfect feeling.

“We fit together.” I nod unable to find the words yet again. “You know of all the stupid things I’ve done, screwing us up was the dumbest mistake of my life.” I can’t help but laugh, it’s something of a choking feeling with the ghost of a tear.

“It’s easily fixed, just keep doing what you are doing, soon being happy won’t be the enemy. I wish you could remember that happiness isn’t the horrible thing he contorts it into. It doesn’t have to end.”

“I know, just keep leading by example.”

“I have no intention of stopping my allowing the full self. You know I mean it, when I say this year I’m going to be selfish, I am putting myself and what makes me happy first.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“This year is my year; personal or professional I am doing me this year. I hope you get to tap into your full self this year. You deserve to be happy.”

“I know, you too. I am getting there, its baby steps between here and reality. Everything is working out, just don’t forget you know how I feel even if in the physical he refuses to admit anything. I am working on getting that wall knocked down. One step at a time.”

“When you tell me you are telling the other girls no…”

“I am telling you to be honest with you, but more than that, to show you that I haven’t said no to you, to show you that I can’t let you go even if I can’t say it out there, I mean it. I can’t and won’t lose you.”

“That would be impossible. I already told you, I am always, always here for you. I wish I could give you everything you want to make you happy.”

“You do. But I just have to stop getting in my own way.”

“This is so bittersweet.”

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Eight :.

My name is Elliot Parker, but right now I am so glad that it’s not.

… Betraying myself, makes that yes the most deafening yes I will ever remember in my life.

The smile on his lips when he kissed me after the word had left my lips was unmistakeable. The kisses were hungry and intense and unquenchable. I fight the fog of the hunger. It feels like a fight I am loosing before I manage to break our lips free at last for a moment.  “You need to answer my question.” My breath feels as unsteady and as shaken as I feel. “Who are you really?”

It had sobered us both like a bucket of ice.

I waited, the silence was heavy, I could see the confliction flashing through his face. “It’s better you don’t know.”

My temper hits me in a white hot rage. Without knowing it my right hand has raised and been caught in his vice like grip, his reflex stopping me from slapping him. His other hand has already wrapped itself around my other wrist. His anger isn’t a mask this time, neither is the hurt registering in his eyes, I can feel it is a mirror reflection of myself. Bitterly like a hot knife a tear rolls down my cheek. I try to look away but I can see something strange in his eyes, guilt? Remorse? I feel his grip loosen.

Slowly my hands are allowed to fall freely to my side before I wrap them around my body. The sting of the tears I am defiantly wishing away are falling without my permission.

Finally, when he speaks, he is beside my ear and his breath tickles me. What he says, turns my insides into cold lead, “I’m the Prince you ran away from.”

The lump in my throat is solid, it doesn’t go away when I try to swallow air. It feels like I am suffocating. Suddenly my whole body is on fire and I have to get out the room. I push past him and this time he lets me as I burst from his cabin and run to the furthest end of the ship dizzy and hot and burning from the inside out.

I could jump, I could try to out swim the ship but there’s no land to rescue and no other ship in sight. I can feel his every stride across the deck, he stopped standing in the door, I could feel him reading my desire to jump, to feel the cold splash of the sea on my skin. I feel him approach, I feel more trapped with every breath I take. The pounding in my ears, I feel like I’m drowning in my own fire.

His voice cuts through me, he turns me to face him, “I am addicted to you, regardless of who you are and who I am.”

This time he doesn’t stop me when I slap him. “Where are we going?” I feel every word heavy and painful from the pit of my lungs.

“Home.” My knees buckle under me.

I never escaped, not really. I can never escape. He pulls me up and somehow I find myself floating into his cabin. “You lied.”

“Can you blame me?”


“The moment I saw you I knew no matter who you were I was under your spell. I wanted to know you, really know you.”

“You were under the contract of the arrangement.”

“No, the moment I saw you and new you were running away, from me, you didn’t know who I was; I wanted you to choose me, not have your hand forced.”

“You can’t be serious?” I finally notice the door is closed, it’s just us. “What is the damn truth with you?”

He takes a deep breath. How did I end up sitting on his bunk? When did he kneel in front of me? When did he take my hands in his? “I am the Prince you will marry; I am the Prince who fell from grace the moment our eyes met. You are my addiction and an adventure with every breath. Finally, you told me what I had hoped for, I am your addiction. That hasn’t changed.”

“The crew know who you are?”

“Yes. They found out who you really were when you got us out of that chamber.”

“You knew exactly who I was, and your men have seen me naked at your demand in that cave.” I feel the fury and fire in my throat burning again. I pull my hands free of his.

“I had no choice, you refused to do what I said and you would have died of cold, you almost did.”

“I was nothing more than a game to you.”

“You were everything but a game. Running away like this, at least you were safe, I never once gambled us or risked losing you, unless I told the truth. I could have not said a word. We could have carried on running.”

I pull my legs up so my knees are hugged tight to my body. His words were supposed to do something, but what? Stop me from being angry? To make me feel lucky? What? All I know is the confusion is a thick fog. Am I angry or thankful or hurt or betrayed or happy or relieved or trapped or embarrassed or humiliated?

He sat with a thud beside me, I speak, not moving, knees still tight in my arms. “You locked the door didn’t you?” There is no key in the lock, I already know the answer. He nods. “I can’t leave can I?”

“There’s nowhere out there to run to, I know you want to run, but please,” he turns his body towards mine and pulls me towards him so that he can look me in the eyes. I give up staring at my feet, “please, Princess, don’t run from me again. I will do anything to not lose like I could have done. Now that I know you, I don’t think I could ever recover. If I had never known you, if we had never stumbled into each other and never met, the Princess who ran away wouldn’t hurt as much as it hurts right now to see you look at me like this.” I look away, I keep how I am feeling unvoiced and stare in silence refusing to break my own resolve.

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Seven :.

My name is Elliot Parker. Except, here it’s not.

I maybe the Captain’s addiction, but he is not mine, my addiction? Staying alive.

I might have charmed the Captain to cut himself free of the dead wood men ready to mutiny. On this boat there are two types of men, those that accept that forbidden magic has kept them alive and those that are struggling with the morals. The ones who were dead set against it are now just plain dead.

The Captain accepted my set up as the stowaway girl but no regular stowaway girl would have these powers, no regular person would even have a chance of these powers. They come from specific, influential bloodlines, the stronger the magic… the Captain knows this. The crew have enough knowledge of rumours. What interests me, is that the Captain has magical control. Not just the basic charisma most Captains have that brings the men like moths to the flame ready to serve. Something more. His past is more than just the plain Captain he has lead us all to believe.

I sit on the steps to the helm watching the water around us. Nothing but sea. The Captain had kept himself locked in his cabin since the kiss after we danced on deck.

I’ve been sat here stewing over what I want to do. There has been so much that has been bothering me about all the questions floating through my head about the Captain. I finally decide to stop trying to calculate what the hell my next move is and stand up, straightening my shirt. I pull my hair into a rough bun with a tie of cloth.

I knock on his door, there is a shift and I stand out of view. I knock on the door; curiosity is what forces him to open the door, I just take advantage of his surprise and push past him and into the room. I watch the hesitation before he closes the door. No point making an unwinnable war.

“You’ve not been on deck in a few days.” I feel his eyes tracing my body.

“I’ve been working.” He refuses to meet my eye and looks away.

“Have you? What on?” I cock my head to the side and let a loose strand of hair fall down on my cheek covering my eye. He shakes his head, “nothing” I slowly wrap the loose strand around my finger and push it behind my ear. He sits on his bunk, his cabin is tidier than normal, he’s cleaned up. He must have been bored. I let him catch me looking, at the tidier cabin, I try to hide the racing thoughts. I take a deep breath and lean against the desk taking a deep breath I cross my arms. “What do you want Princess?”

“I want the truth.”

“How very vague, what about?”


He smiled, “me?”

“Yes. Who were the blue and creams really after, you or me?” I try to get him to meet my eye but his eyes are fixed on the wall.

“Who do you think?”

“That’s what I can’t decide, I might have more than you may have expected. But I know that you are more than the man you claim to be.” I let my words linger in the air, the silence as deafening as the roar of the ocean on a stormy night.

“That’s an interesting theory.”

“Theory? Who are you really? I don’t believe you are a Captain with that much control by happenstance.”

“You want answers?”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?”

“If you want answers, you need to tell me what turned you into the runaway Princess begging for a strange Captain’s help to escape.”

“Then you will tell me?”

“If you tell me the unadulterated truth. No masks, just us here, and I’m telling no one.”


“What responsibility?”

“I am running from an arranged marriage that I never wanted.”

“Did you meet him?”

“No. I left before he reached the palace.”

“So you are the Princess running from her palace and prince? You take a lot of risks.”

“Are risks really risks if they are calculated?”

“Yes. He could have been a good man.”

“Or a terrible one. It was an arrangement of alliance not of match made romance.”

“You could have come to love him. Instead you chose this life on the run.”

“I chose freedom.”

“Will you ever go back?”

“How can I?”

“Do you think it was an accident you chose my ship?” I felt a shift beneath my feet and it wasn’t the boat, it was me. Was this all an accident. Was this part of something else?

“Who are you really?”

“I want my question answered first.” He stood, he took two or three strides to stand in front of me, the palms of his hands bracing the desk on either side of me, no longer lazily leaning on his desk. His face is close to mine, I could feel his eyes locking onto mine, he wanted honesty, and he stripped the masks between us away completely. “Am I your addiction to?”

I felt every breath harder in my chest, I couldn’t charm my way out of this in any remote option, the best, to tell the truth and hope it’s the one that keeps me alive. I find myself unable to speak, I try but there is some strange feeling in my throat. I could swear my heart beating could be heard on deck. I can’t break free of the struggle to say the words. His face is so close to mine the warmth of his breath is intoxicating. I lean myself a little closer, this time when my lips brush his I am nervous, a different kind of nervous, a giddy heart racing nervous. Our lips touch feather light, I kiss him, so gently I am wondering if it was something of the imagination. Until I kiss him again and his lips meet mine firmly. One kiss then another falls into another, a breathless hunger of kisses fall between us, I pause for the briefest second and my voice is no more than a whisper, even though it is my own biggest betrayal, “yes”…

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The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Fifty-Six :.

My name is Elliot Parker and that crazy day didn’t stop there obviously.

So how far did I get? Ah, the parking lot, or leaving it I should say. So we drive down the main road talking about the day so far still laughing at the audacity of the man that Clover described as a “ropey piece of…” You get the idea.

So anyway we turn off to avoid the traffic of town and turn off just past the hospital and we are driving along to the first crossroads. A man is standing to cross, well sort of standing, more zombie walking across, he had blood dripping down the side of his face and he reached the other side. Clover shouts out the car asking if he is ok, he nods, like a zombie and she points him in the direction of accident and emergency a road down and has to drive to pull up on the other side of the cross road so other cars can pass. So we call the emergency services, Clover has her eye on the man and I explain to the ambulance team about his injuries and the man runs off. Literally runs off, we turn the car and we are trying to see him, its dark outside and he has disappeared. We try to see if we can spot the man as we drive, however because we can’t find him the ambulance can’t come out. We look up and down the side roads for the next twenty to thirty minutes hoping to spot him.

We can’t find him and we try one last attempt to see if he is ok and we head to accident and emergency. A conversation we don’t quite know how to have.

“This might sound like a bit of a weird question…” Well now the receptionist is listening… “But we saw this man a few roads away and he had blood dripping down the side of his head and…”

The receptionist rolled her eyes, she knew who we were talking about “we know, he did it in here. He came in and kicked off and did that to himself and ran off before we could do anything.”

Ah so it was self-inflicted, suddenly we felt a lot less concerned and responsible. So we got back on track and had to head back to the MaccyD’s we had just been in for the play pit. The other place had closed.

Well the little one ended up having fun playing with a few other kids while we sat on the floor watching her chatting. It had been such a crazy day.

And do you know, the only thing I wanted by the end of the day was to cuddle up with Adrian with a nice hot cup of tea and something stupid on the TV. Out of all the things in the world, he is still what I wanted to comfort me.

With some of the decisions I’ve been trying to make recently, I just needed his special brand of cuddles, even if it’s one of the ones where he pokes me in the back a little. I know I find it agitating but the way we just seem to fit together, it just feels so safe and so much like home. He is my safe place, even if he doesn’t know or understand that, it’s ok. I just don’t think I can forget that day. I don’t think I can forget that he is my safe place. I don’t think I will ever forget that feeling, that after a long hard day when I am exhausted and just in need of feeling safe and comfortable he is the person I think of.

I haven’t discussed this with him, how can I? Just like I really don’t know if I want his opinion, because I think he would tell me to do it and make it all very public. It has been suggested to me that I should write a memoir, about something specific, about the relationship I have with my mother. There is a reason why I am scared to do this, actually there is many. I’ve given it so much thought. Too much thought. But it doesn’t feel right or ready yet. Not because I am protecting her or protecting myself, really protecting myself. But right now, I am still living it and I need the space from it rather than to keep thinking about the way things are. I don’t want to do it and feel worse for it. I want to do it for the right reasons. I want to be able to do it and be able to say “I accept that this made me feel (insert whatever feeling fits like scared or hurt or angry) and that’s ok. I accept that it made me feel like that and I am happy to be in a position where I no longer feel this way and I am able to begin to feel thankful for this experience because it has enabled me to become who I am today. Who I am today is awesome and full of happiness and love and the past has been released.”

That would be the position and emotional place that I want to be in if I do ever decide that I am ready to sit down and write the memoirs that people tell me I should be writing. Right now, I am living it, and just living it is hard enough as it is. I never expected to feel or live this way. But I am not willing to hurt myself more now, when there is a chance that in the future I will be able to write it in a place where it benefits me emotionally to release me from the past, and the present.

I don’t doubt that Adrian would understand if I explained it that way, I just don’t want to feel like I am running away from or avoiding writing it for the wrong reason. He wants the best I am sure but I don’t feel ready for crossing that bridge.

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