Beauty in Madness

These past few days, I have been engrossed in reading one of the books that R.A Salvatore has written. Here is a passage that I LOVED in one of his books… “The Two Swords” it’s the third book in The Hunter’s Blade Trilogy.

oOo

“To be an elf is to find your distances of time. To be an elf is to live several shorter life spans.” I have learned this to be true, but there is something more. To be an elf is to be alive, to experience the joy of the moment within the context of long term desires. There must be more than distant hopes to sustain the joy of life.

Seize the moment and seize the day. Revel in the joy and fight all the harder against despair.

I had something so wonderful for the last years of my life. I had with me a woman whom I loved, and was my best of friends. Someone who understood my every mood, and who accepted the bad with the good. Someone who did not judge, except in encouraging me to find my own answers. I found a safe place for my face in her thick hair. I found a reflection of my own soul in the light of her blue eyes. I found the last piece of this puzzle that is Drizzt Do’Urden in the fit of our bodies.

Then I lost her, I lost it all.

And only in losing Catti-brie did I come to see the foolishness of my hesitance. I feared rejection. I feared disrupting that which we had. I feared the reactions of Bruenor and later when he returned from the Abyss, of Wulfgar.

I feared and I feared and I feared, and that fear held back my actions, time and again.

How often do we do this? How often do we allow often irrational fears to paralyze us in our movements? Not in battle, for me, for I have never shied from locking swords with a foe. But in love and in friendship, where, I know, the wounds can cut deeper than any blade.

I will not make that mistake again… the community remains above the self; the good for the future outweighs the immediate desires. But not so much, perhaps. There is a balance to be found, I now know, for utter selflessness can be as great a fault as utter selfishness, and a life of complete sacrifice, without joy, is, at the end, a lonely and empty existence.