Chương 1043: Day One Thousand And Forty-One

Dear Diary, Y'know, after all the revelations about myself, I think some part of me is happy to realize that at the end of the day I'm not just a mass of trauma cosplaying as a woman. I'm me, and even if I surprise myself sometimes with what that means, there's still a me there under all the trauma. Fuck, the me there under the trauma was maybe always there, like the meat under a salt crust. Although let's face it, all that trauma also made me pretty salty. One part of that is my enjoyment of domestic shit.

Cooking, especially. I'm pretty sure that back in the day I had some kind of eating disorder. My weight fluctuated wildly, and it wasn't just from the horrific yet fundamentally 'normal' cycle in urban areas where kids like me got most of their calories from lunch programs, where we'd start the school year skinny, maybe even unhealthily so, and pack on weight all year long until by late May, early June we wound up kinda rotund.

The opposite of hibernating bears, really, except it was packing on weight to see us through the lean times. But I didn't really need to do that, especially once my mom died. Yeah, when she was working I did that a little, and when she got too sick to work I definitely did that a lot, but once she died I had a steady source of food money. Not enough to order take out every day, but way more than I needed to feed myself via a supermarket and basic cooking skills.

I, of course, ordered mass quantities of the cheapest takeout possible, gorged myself on it, ate as much as I could at school, until inevitably the takeout went bad, I ate it anyway, and I spent a week or two cutting school entirely, lying on my bed playing video games. Okay, let's face it, I was lying around playing with electronic toys, not all of which were video games, but a surprising number of which involved my phone.

Which would be why I wound up with kinda ratty clothes most of the time, since I spent my clothing budget on toys and games. I think living like that is why I appreciate the appeal of a clean set of sheets, a tidied up room, and a nice meal. The thought that with a minimal amount of effort I can Change messy rooms, dirty clothing, and raw ingredients into domestic bliss both excites and boggles me.

Excited because I am now apparently an old head who has strong opinions about clean laundry, and also because culinary bliss has always been something I enjoyed, even if I didn't experience it often, boggled because, y'know, me. It's me doing those things. Making those things. But I still love eating good food, I'm just learning to be healthier about it. I mean, I don't even really need it any more, so I'm mostly eating to set a good example for my girls and to enjoy the taste, but it's still, y'know, me.

My whole deal with Revels and quality adult time with my partners is another part of it, I think. One of those things that's core to my being, but got really twisted up by my childhood. I've got appetites.

It's cool and all that Saffron and Marie both do too, Siobhan's introduction to the activity set her firmly on the path of 'this is fun and guilt free', and Tallulah seems to have picked it up as a Special Interest, but it really is something that's deeply important to me, even if I didn't really understand why back in the day, or even for a while after I got to the here and now. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Because back in the day I thought it was all about getting my rocks off. Reaching the finish line. Catching that sweet, sweet dopamine release. Even after I'd been here for a while, I still thought it was about biochemistry, about filling my bloodstream with endorphins to kill the pain of all the physical trauma I'd accrued. Thing is, none of that is wrong, not really. Not in the 'immoral' sense, nor in the 'why I do it' sense. But it's also not why it's such a core part of me, I don't think.

That would be the intimacy. The comfort. Shit, I've got that as a Skill now. The ability to connect to somebody on an intimate level, to make them feel better about themselves, about their situation, about life in general and their place in it. So yeah, after two days dealing with Siobean's indecision, I wasn't sure about going to the Revel tonight, but when I asked her about it, Siobhan shook her head.

"No, Tabitha. You simply must go."

"I mean, I will if you want me to. Are you, like, gonna ride along to distract yourself?" She pouted and shook her head.

"I don't think I could enjoy it." I hugged her.

"You sure you don't need me to stick around?" I poured more Mana into Comfort. She sighed, shaking her head more.

"Please, Tabitha. I would feel terribly guilty if your Worshippers were denied your presence due to my incapacitation." I leaned in, kissed her on the forehead, and nodded to Hailee.

"Take care of her for me?" Hailee head bunted first me, then Siobhan before snuggling in.

"Of course, Mama." Once I had both of them and the rest of the family in the Dining Room, I leaned over to Saffron.

"Where to tonight, Kitten?"

"Calverton, love." I nodded, and a moment later stepped down to my Altar in Calverton, where Orla waited to greet me.

"Goddess!" She turned and faced the congregation.

"Let the Revel begin!" Yeah, tonight was an interesting callback to one of my earlier Revels. My folks in Calverton were jazzed to see me, especially Mercy, the Priestess in Calverton who sat with the dying, especially those who'd been Undead and couldn't deal with it. She sat and told me of all the men and women who'd died under her care since last time we sat together. There... There were a lot. By the time she finished, neither of us had dry eyes. She looked up at me when she was done and whispered, "I feel..."

When she trailed off I pulled her close to me.

"Go on." She looked up into my eyes as I looked into that secret place inside her.

"Show me, Goddess?" Moving as gently as possible, I took her face in my hands, pulled her to me, and kissed her. What came after was oddly pure. Touching. I mean yeah, there was touching involved, but all she wanted was proof that she was still loved. Still in my good graces. She wept herself to sleep, but she had a quiet, satisfied look on her face when she did. Orla leaned over to me.

"Thank you, Goddess." Kinda stunned me when I realized that dawn was rapidly approaching. Teaching the Newark Cadets today was... Weird. I think I finally understood what the old heads from ROTC meant when they talked about lying to kids when they thought none of us could hear. Not that I lied. Not in any particular.

But the whole time I was teaching them, encouraging them, pumping them up to think of themselves as Newark's next generation of unstoppable Heroes, I kept thinking about the number of former Calverton Heroes Mercy had sat with. I never really wanted to be an old head. Now I know why.