I do not need to be here. I do not need to be training, although there is nothing wrong with a little practice here and there, but we have been getting plenty of practice as of late. I am tired, I have files and briefs, and proposals I could be reviewing, my desk is probably overflowing in my absence, but instead I am here, in the League's training room, dripping sweat, trying anything and everything to distract my mind. No, in honesty let me rephrase. I am the keeper of the Hestia's lasso. If I cannot be honest with myself, then of what good can I do for the world? I am here because I am trying to distract my heart.
Just thinking it allows me to breathe a little easier…and just thinking that makes me feel a little…the first word that comes to mind is pathetic, though I know that is my mother's voice inside my head speaking and not my own. I do not feel pathetic, I feel…lost, which is probably why I'm here in the training room. Training I know. Matters of the heart, matters of my own heart, seem to be a bit more…complicated, shall we say. I should go home, but I know the best chance I have of casually running into him is here. Or so I think…I think. Aphrodite…Sister, what spell have you woven over me? I want to ignore these feelings, but I cannot. I want to do something else, think of something else, feel something else, but Sweet Hera, I cannot. My mind is a jumble of convoluted thoughts, jagged and fragile, slamming into one another and only further fracturing. I cannot focus.
"Computer, end program, now," The computer obliges and the fist of a holographic foe disappears leaving behind a bot that is inches from my face. With a cry of frustration I drop my sword, wincing at how deep the tip gorges the floor. I must be careful. I am not a mortal free to take my frustrations out on a whim, I know this. I am held to a higher standard by those around me as well as by myself. I am Diana, Princess , Demi Goddess, I am…I am…a mess.
I do not know whether to smile or scream and the sound that follows seems to be something that is an odd hybrid of them both. This whole training thing? It was a bad idea. I can't keep it together. Perhaps meditation was a better option.
But…That tiny voice coming from somewhere deep within my mind ripples to the surface, echoing, slicing through the chaos. But he would not possibly stumble upon you were you in meditation…though you could meditate here and maybe…
Again my mind is racing with a million possibilities, all ending with the delicious weight of his lips covering mine. I am such a mess. Common sense has fled me leaving me behind as a stumbling, focus-less fool. Is this what women of this world experience on a regular basis? Is this what power lead my sisters to swear off men for the duration of their lengthy lives? So many questions. With a sigh, I give in to the ache in my legs and slide to the floor with the pretense of stretching, hoping it looks passable. Probably not. I probably look like the mess I am feeling…And over what? Over him.
I have so many questions…So many unanswered questions…Am I supposed to feel this chaotic? I want to exhale and have the essence of him leave me, whatever part of him he has left with me, because surely, that must be why I feel the need to return to his side. I want to be freed from this constant lingering need for connection, causing me to relive and even create thoughts. I want my own thoughts in my head to reflect tasks and memories not related to him. I want…I want….I am a liar..I want none of this.
Honesty, Diana, honesty is key.
At the very least, I must be honest with myself. So with that, I stop fighting. What's the point? It is not as though I am making any progress. With that I allow myself to fall back against the floor, air pushing from my lungs in a rush as I finally grant myself permission to just let my mind go exactly where it wants. My heart, traitor that it is, is quick to follow. In a blink of an eye my mind's eye is filled with images, memories, dreams, desires, fantasies… It all comes rushing in with a warmth that starts somewhere in the middle of my chest and refuses to subside. Like the tide inevitably coming back to the shore…And with a smile, I'm swept away…