love | finding hope 

. . . 

I did not get along with him anymore.

There were many reasons why. A multitude of maybes cooing evilly in my brain. I just wanted to breathe again without having to struggle, to feel alive, to not feel worthless.

Maybe it was because he was stubborn, headstrong, and rough- traits that I also possessed in my arsenal. Maybe it was because he was the son of the Tribe Leader and I knew he would one day rule the Tribe I was just a small, insignificant part of. 

Maybe it was because we once shared a friendship closer than best friends, yet less than lovers and he stopped fraternizing with me without telling me why, effectively shattering my soul.

Maybe it was because he was betrothed to my little sister. Maybe it was because my little sister was unjustly being pushed to become his wife because she was as pale, petite, and dainty as a lily, (when it was I who wanted nothing more than to marry him). Maybe it was because my little sister already had a lover that she wanted to elope with, but was forced to leave the poor boy for someone whose status was far greater than a mere farmer's boy.

She'd marry a Warrior; oh how proud my parents were.

Never mind the fact that she did not love him. Never mind the fact that she was miserable. Never mind the fact that I secretly trained to become a Warrior worthy of status (because I'd never marry one) to bring the same prestige to our small family.

I blamed him.

He was the son of the Tribe Leader, he could so easily give her what she wanted, yet he did nothing.

I hated him, but the small part of my heart that I could not control, craved for his acknowledgement of my existence. 

. . .