#ccitytask19

You don’t really picture what a normal life is like once you’ve lived like this. I think we forget about all the things we used to want when we were mortal. In two weeks, I’ll be 99. I’ve almost been on this planet for a whole century. I’ve lived through a few major wars, I’ve seen a whole world be built from the ground up and yet... Why do I feel as though nothing has really changed?

People. I think it’s people that aren’t changing. The world, sure, new buildings, new trends (not really, just re-hashing things honestly). And of course, then there’s the way people are with one another. When I was younger, the way people treated each other sucked in it’s own way but now? I don’t think people really put thought or time into a good conversation. People just bypass one another.

Sometimes, I wonder how I even got here. A content home, two beautiful and adoring pups. Friends I can count on, that aren’t even a part of my pack. It’s so strange how things all come together in their own weird little way, isn’t it? This week, I was out adding on to the shelter when I noticed how many dogs had come in my care, and are now safely homed with other supernaturals. I think you’d be proud of me, Rory.

And yet, there’s always that thing tugging away in the back of my mind. Can I do more, can I be better? Is what I give to this life sufficient enough to make up for everything you gave to protect us all? These are some of those burning questions for me. And then... Tesla puts faith in me to answer something for her, as she did the other day when she inquired about how packs work, and why there were titles. When she asked about mates, and seemed to connect what we have to that. How she feels safe confiding every thought into me.

Or when Bryce... brilliant, beautiful, strong, brave Bryce just looks at me like I’m some god given gift. However, that does seem to come with a downside, not unlike when he smashes my face between his hands demanding I stop looking this way. It’s a plight to love such a boy. A painful, wonderful plight. I don’t know how I’m still jotting these notes down to you. I don’t know why. Maybe, just maybe this is my way of keeping you near when you’re so far away. A journal specifically to communicate with you, and hope your advice comes through somehow.