Because it will return
Aug. 19th, 2004 01:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brightrosefoxI finished rereading Nora Roberts' "Face The Fire" and I had forgotten just how freakishly powerful that book is: The writing, the characters, the story... but most of all the actual power. Roberts is Wiccan, and a lot of her books feature modern Wiccans and witches. So she puts real spells and rituals into her books. The stuff her characters do, the incantations -- those are actually applicable. More than once, I've not-so-casually uttered a few while outdoors, and I've felt trickles and tingles of energy. So the words do something, even if it's just the reader reaction.
This trilogy is great because almost all the characters are powerful witches, and Mia has some kick-ass power. I wanna be able to call up twenty-foot tidal waves and walls of fire, too.
But the storyline struck me particularly hard. Mia spent eleven years with her heart locked away because Sam left abruptly and hurt her badly, sliced her inside to ribbons. Then he comes back, and the magic is still strong and it's needed to defeat the supernatural villain at the end and all... but the real point was the incredible comparison between love and magic -- and both as a force that can't be controlled. At the end of the book, when Mia finally opened her heart back up, she told Sam that if he left again, she knew she loved him enough to let him go -- because some part of him would stay. Sam didn't leave and everyone wound up happy, but it really made me think.
Love: It's a terribly selfish emotion and at the same time amazingly selfless. Love can mean holding on and holding close and it can mean letting go and stepping back. But if there is one thing I've learned over the years, it's that love is always worth everything, because it will return. In whatever way, in whatever form, love never leaves. If a heart is broken by one form of love, another is always there to pick up the pieces and help it start over. It's the most universal force I know of.
I was just thinking back to the last time Adam had to leave on a week-long business trip. I remember standing inside the door, watching him walk to the car and get in and start it up and pull away, and for the first time, tears didn't well up in my eyes, my heart didn't clench so fiercely as to hurt. There was a dull ache, but it faded. And I felt that invisible, endless link between us stretch on healthily, and I knew that everything would be fine, he would be safe, and he would come home to me. That was the important thing. I think back to the first two years -- the long-distance heartaches and everything; how neither one of us were living quite as whole as we should be, knowing that we had to be together soon or we'd go insane. I listen to people newly in love ache and struggle when their lover isn't with them for a even few hours, and I marvel that Adam and I stayed relatively sane for two whole years. I know people who have gone longer. It's pretty powerful.
So I certainly can understand how the character of Mia had to force her heart closed for so long.
Love is madness. But in a good way.
It's the little declarations that make it worth everything. It doesn't have to be a huge show of wonder. That's what is so beautiful. Last night, during lovemaking, he held me very tight, so close that we almost merged, and whispered simply, "I need you." And when I returned the embrace, I could feel all that love and the heat and the sheer power of both true love and real magic radiating from his skin and his mind.
Love is such a simple, complex truth.
This trilogy is great because almost all the characters are powerful witches, and Mia has some kick-ass power. I wanna be able to call up twenty-foot tidal waves and walls of fire, too.
But the storyline struck me particularly hard. Mia spent eleven years with her heart locked away because Sam left abruptly and hurt her badly, sliced her inside to ribbons. Then he comes back, and the magic is still strong and it's needed to defeat the supernatural villain at the end and all... but the real point was the incredible comparison between love and magic -- and both as a force that can't be controlled. At the end of the book, when Mia finally opened her heart back up, she told Sam that if he left again, she knew she loved him enough to let him go -- because some part of him would stay. Sam didn't leave and everyone wound up happy, but it really made me think.
Love: It's a terribly selfish emotion and at the same time amazingly selfless. Love can mean holding on and holding close and it can mean letting go and stepping back. But if there is one thing I've learned over the years, it's that love is always worth everything, because it will return. In whatever way, in whatever form, love never leaves. If a heart is broken by one form of love, another is always there to pick up the pieces and help it start over. It's the most universal force I know of.
I was just thinking back to the last time Adam had to leave on a week-long business trip. I remember standing inside the door, watching him walk to the car and get in and start it up and pull away, and for the first time, tears didn't well up in my eyes, my heart didn't clench so fiercely as to hurt. There was a dull ache, but it faded. And I felt that invisible, endless link between us stretch on healthily, and I knew that everything would be fine, he would be safe, and he would come home to me. That was the important thing. I think back to the first two years -- the long-distance heartaches and everything; how neither one of us were living quite as whole as we should be, knowing that we had to be together soon or we'd go insane. I listen to people newly in love ache and struggle when their lover isn't with them for a even few hours, and I marvel that Adam and I stayed relatively sane for two whole years. I know people who have gone longer. It's pretty powerful.
So I certainly can understand how the character of Mia had to force her heart closed for so long.
Love is madness. But in a good way.
It's the little declarations that make it worth everything. It doesn't have to be a huge show of wonder. That's what is so beautiful. Last night, during lovemaking, he held me very tight, so close that we almost merged, and whispered simply, "I need you." And when I returned the embrace, I could feel all that love and the heat and the sheer power of both true love and real magic radiating from his skin and his mind.
Love is such a simple, complex truth.
