Cayden - May 18th, 1989
Dear Cerridwen,
Well surprise, surprise. After only a couple hours of sleep, here I am hiding in the bathroom on the bus, sitting on the floor at 3 in the morning. There’s a reason I’m a Sleepless Knight after all, aside from the whole Celtic demigod warrior and rock star thing. Kyler, Rian, and the rest of the guys passed out watching Weird Science for the millionth time and are now snoring like fat bulldogs. We had an album signing today at a Sam Goody in Jersey, and then we went to the Seaside Heights boardwalk. It was my first time there and it was a blast. But not necessarily because of the rides, games, and sausage sandwiches.
more on this later..
I never knew time could cease any and all movement when you’ve met the woman of your dreams. I’m well aware of how time seems to either fast forward or rewind in this world, without me even noticing. I’m convinced my whole past, present, and seemingly endless future could be wrapped up tightly with this one night, and I’d be completely okay with that. Her name is Maeve, and she thinks she’s a nobody, but she has no idea that she is somebody to us..to me..to everything.
I’m not going to get into a lot of detail because I do have to try and get some more sleep, and my thoughts are racing right now. But what I will tell you is this…
She’s got eyes that are so big, intense, and hazel green, she would put the princess at the end of The Neverending Story to shame. Her hair is this thick, wild mass of curls, but if you ran your hands through it, you wouldn’t hit a knot. Her voice is hard to explain, maybe a mix of Patsy Kline and Tiffany? Maybe there is no comparison. Regardless, her sound is hypnotic, like a cooling breeze followed by a roll of thunder. This sketch really doesn't do her justice.
Initially, all hope of her hanging out with us once she got off of work was lost because she had her guard up, big time. I’m not used to that. Nowadays it seems like every girl who recognizes me wants to throw her bra at me, and it can get tiring. That’s why I tried to escape the tailend of the signing as it was. Okay, okay, maybe it’s not the most terrible thing in the world to have braless women all around you. But unlike some 20 to 22 year old men who shall remain nameless, I want to know who the person is underneath the boobs, the Electric Youth perfume, and the ten pounds of make-up.
Once I got back to the bus, which was sitting aimlessly in the mall parking lot, not knowing where to go next, I told the guys about her. And they proceeded to each rip me a new asshole so now I have five of them. Of course, their minds were more focused on getting me laid, which was not on my mind at all…Fine, I’m a guy, what do you want from me? She’s got a great body underneath that long bulky sweater. Nice breasts too despite being well-covered.
Nevermind that for now. My interest in this girl goes way beyond her looks. She is a phenomenal illustrator and story writer. I got to take a look at her journal for a bit, and I was blown away. These had to be the drawings of a seer, a slake, a prophetess, whatever anybody wants to call her. I know, I know, there hasn’t been a true seer in hundreds of years, and I’ve had these suspicions about other women before. But this is entirely different. I feel it in my gut.
She says she often doesn’t remember writing or drawing a lot of the stuff that ends up in that leatherbound book. Sometimes she thinks she’s going crazy, like she has multiple personalities. But I know better, and I think any seasoned member of Fianna would know too. This is it. She might be the one, and this makes me happy and scared shitless at the same time. Do I want to bring her into our world? Do I want to watch anyone else bring her in? As soon as our enemies find out she’s the next seer, if she really is the one, she’ll be a target for deception. People who are on our side may see her as a threat. Neither side will win, and I’ll be left pining for a woman the history books say I shouldn’t have.
So that is where I am at right now. In one night, life has taken a drastic turn, and I have no idea which way is up right now. For once it has nothing to do with insomnia or headaches. All I know is I don’t want to lose this girl. She thinks she’ll never hear from me again, but she will.
Hate to leave you hanging, but I have a bass to play, and a life to save at any given moment. The life of a Knight…later.
PS. I won her a big stuffed bear playing (ok, slightly cheating) at Frog Bog on the boardwalk. Much to my disappointment it was wearing a Yankees jersey. But it reminded her of her late brother and I could tell she really wanted it. Hey, I’ve gone 21 years without using my telekinesis to get on a girl’s good side. I’d say that’s pretty good.
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