The Mistress

The ink traces the chaos that my thoughts cannot contain. It's mapping the fragments that scatter widely in the dark, quiet madness I endure.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

These words are mine, and mine alone — fragments of thought, pieces of feeling, echoes of a mind that wanders where I cannot speak aloud.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

1.
She misses him with a desperation she can scarcely put into words. Not merely the thought of him, but his physical presence. His voice in the quiet, his hands upon her, his warmth beside her. She longs for the simplest things, as though they were the rarest luxuries.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

2.
There was a particular kind of peace in knowing he was in the house. Somewhere nearby. Just a wall, a doorway, a few footsteps away. She could breathe differently then. The world seemed less cruel. She hadn't realised how much of her safety lived in his presence.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

3.
She would give almost anything to hear his voice. Not a message upon a screen, not words hurriedly stolen between obligations. His actual voice. Close enough to hear its inflections, its softness. She is famished for the sound of him

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

4.
It is his touch she remembers most cruelly. The familiar weight of his hand, the warmth of his skin, the way a single embrace could silence a thousand troubled thoughts. Her body remembers what her life is no longer permitted to have.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

5.
She no longer feels safe. Not in the quiet, not in the darkness, not even within the walls of the home she has inhabited for years. Something fundamental has gone. She once knew where to find her refuge. Now she cannot find it anywhere

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

6.
How desperately she longs for the ordinary. To hear him moving about the house. To know he is in the next room. To catch his eye across a room and smile without needing to explain a thing. She never knew such ordinary moments could become the cruellest of memories.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

7.
There is a loneliness that sleep cannot soften and company cannot cure. She carries it beneath her skin. She wants no grand declarations, no impossible promises tonight. She wants him. His voice, his arms, his nearness. The man she has never quite stopped belonging to.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

8.
She is weary of being brave. Weary of holding herself together when all she wants is to fall into the familiarity of his arms. To relinquish the burden of being the strong one. To be held without having to ask, and loved without having to endure the leaving

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

9.
The house is still the same, yet nothing feels as it did. The rooms are quieter, the evenings longer, the shadows more oppressive. It is astonishing how one absent person can alter the very atmosphere of a place. He has left no footprints, yet his absence is everywhere.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

10.
She misses the reassurance of his nearness. That unspoken knowledge that, for a little while, she was not entirely alone. Now every creak, every silence, every passing hour reminds her that the sanctuary she once found in him was never truly hers to keep

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

11.
Perhaps that is the cruellest part. He was never merely someone she loved. He was where her restless heart found respite. Where the noise inside her quietened. Where she could lay down her fears. And now she must somehow learn to exist without her one familiar refuge.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

12.
She longs to be gathered into his arms and held until the ache subsides. Though she knows it would not. She would only remember what it felt like to be there, and the subsequent emptiness would be all the more unbearable

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

13.
There are nights when she would surrender every ounce of pride simply to have him near. To hear him breathe, to feel his fingers entwined with hers, to know that for these few stolen hours the world could not reach them. Oh, how she aches for those hours.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

14.
She has lost more than his presence. She has lost the illusion of somewhere to lay her heart down. The certainty that somebody knew her, understood her, could quieten the tempest within her. She is not merely missing him. She is mourning the safety she felt beside him.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

15.
And still, if he appeared at her door tonight, she knows her heart would betray every promise her head has made. She would want his arms around her, his voice in her ear, his presence in her home. Fifteen years of longing cannot be silenced by the decision to let go.

[Sky News @SkyNews]

BREAKING: Met Office issues another weather warning

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[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

1/10
She is not tired. Tiredness is mended by sleep. She is weary unto the marrow, soul-sick and threadbare. A profound lassitude has settled upon her, and no amount of rest can reach the place where her weariness truly dwells.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

2/10
There are mornings when opening her eyes feels like an act of defiance. Another day to endure, another multitude of things to tend, another summons to be strong. Her soul yearns for oblivion's quiet, whilst life insists she rise and carry on.

[The Mistress @Lady_Mischief_1]

3/10
She has become so adept at surviving that nobody thinks to ask whether she is well. They see her standing and presume she is strong. They mistake her silence for serenity, never fathoming the tempest she must quell merely to appear whole.