12/8/17 - 12/10/17

Confessions and consequences

Photo by Shalone Cason on Unsplash

12/8/17

Ace of Swords again. I found myself begging August not to meditate this time. Instead I just told him the truth about seeing Evelyn and what she had said to me. He didn’t take it well. I’ve salted my office. I can hear glass shattering in the kitchen and the house has taken on an unusually sinister chill. I’m clutching my grimoire with the dispersion spell, for whoever comes for me first.

12/9/17

“I’m sorry.” August sat on the floor of my office, his back against the book case. “I shouldn’t have broken all of your things.” Seawater tears slipped down his cheeks with a racking sob. “I thought I was done missing her. I thought I had moved on and my life here would fall into place.” He growled and slammed a fist down on the floor. “Now she’s brought back all that pain. Reminded me that I don’t belong here with… where I want to be.” He moaned and covered his face with his hands.

“August, I-“ What could I say? I shuffled and drew his card.

“The Three of Cups reversed,” I said, “a cup for you, Evelyn, and me. It seems the Universe wants you to fix this.” I looked out the window. When I looked back, August was gone.

12/10/17

Today’s card, The Hierophant reversed, did nothing to ease the tension in the house. August stalked me like a shadow and reminded me that, though he had smashed everything else in the kitchen, he had not smashed my grandmother’s china, despite the pattering being gaudy. I spent the day wondering if I were the mature energy turned on its head, or if Evelyn was. It was certainly not August. He’d never been on his feet to begin with. To make matters worse, I kept feeling the stupid urge to hold him all day. To just hold him and let him weep or laugh or whatever. Like wishing for death.