What about Allerleirauh for our fairytale? I could have a fur and one of the dresses she has, and you could be the king she cooks for and marries? Granted, I wouldn't say that I'm the most beautiful I bet you'd make a handsome king!

The story is transcribed here.

What would you say to me getting a tattoo?

I don't know what your commitments are like- I know the season is still in pretty full swing, but would you be interested in some sort of vacation like that with me? Or if you would want to come with but can't get the time off, I can wait until the season is over!

Six months. Well. Not quite six months. Even still, I think it's longer than nearly every other relationship I've been in. Only one was longer, I think, though that was over months before we actually parted ways. I suppose I was too stubborn at the time, too blind. I thought I was in love, thought that I could..that I could change, that I could make him love me by being the perfect..everything he wanted. Everything I thought he wanted.

I failed, of course. But I think that failure was the best thing that could have happened to me at the time. If I hadn't...well. I'd never be here. I wouldn't..I wouldn't have this family.

Do you have plans for tomorrow night, love?

It is late, and I find that I cannot sleep again. I've slipped out of bed and have taken solitary refuge in the kitchen; I think this might be the first time I've ever witnessed the house this quiet. I suppose part of it is not only the lateness of the hour, but the absence of Oliver, Bailey, and Chad. It is quiet, and it should be peaceful as I sit here and write, but my mind is not at ease.

I keep thinking about my sister. She's been de- gone for nearly eight years. The anniversary of the final battle is coming up, and I can't even remember the last time I went to her grave site. It's been years, I'm sure. And I miss her terribly. I can't help but wonder what she would think of me, and my life; I can't help but wonder if she'd be proud. I know I would be proud of her now, were she still here. She was so bright. So full of life and laughter and love, even as her body betrayed her. She lit up the room, more than I ever could. She would have gone places, would be doing something beautiful and wonderful with her life. I wish I could have known the woman she was to become. We practically raised each other, and then she was taken from me, like everybody else I've ever loved.

I dream about her. Her smiling face, the last time we saw each other. I visited her on a Hogsmeade weekend, and we shared a picnic lunch outside before perusing the shops; I had a little pocket money for her to take with her but she insisted on using it to buy silly little matching charms for our charm bracelets. I don't think I've worn that bracelet in years, either- it's in that wee box I keep tucked away on the top shelf in the closet. It sits there, gathering dust, with all of my photographs- there aren't many, really- and souvenirs and mementos. It's silly, really, and a bit difficult to believe just how much of my past- how everything happy from my childhood- can be contained in such a small wooden box. I keep seeing her wave at me before she turns to walk back to the castle. I always waited until she was out of sight before leaving, so she wouldn't turn around and find nobody there for her. When we were small I promised her that I would always be there for her.

Except that I wasn't there for her. When it mattered most, when she needed me most I wasn't there. I disappointed her, just as our father did. I must have. By the time I found her it was too late. She knew she didn't have long, and there was nothing I could do. I had few precious moments with her as she closed her eyes, whispered she loved me and she would see me soon, and then she was just..gone.

Sometimes I wonder if it should have been me. It just as easily could have been. But I was too late. So many I know bear the scars of that battle. And I have nothing to show for it. I did not fight, for I arrived too late, and once I had, I couldn't leave her. I have no marks, and my scars are perhaps more difficult to heal- the scars on the inside. And perhaps that sounds silly, or foolish, but I can't help it.

( image spell-o taped to journal )

See? Beautiful.

Hey, love- I was wondering what I might need to do to hire you on to help me with that promotional material for the shop? I was thinking you could come in one day and photograph some of the spreads I've done? Or..you know, I'm not even entirely sure. I'm looking for something I can use for advertisements, and perhaps a pamphlet or catalog of sorts? What do you think?

How might I go about requesting/scheduling a dance lesson?

Still up for dancing?

Um. What would you say if I asked you to join me for dance lessons? Ballroom to start, I imagine-- I- I've always wanted to learn how to dance, and I- I was supposed to my mother would have - well. I never learned. I mean, if you aren't interested, that's completely okay! I know Ellie said she offers private lessons and-

Yes. I'm going to stop babbling now.

Hey, love. Do you have anything planned for tonight?