Oh my goodness! That has got to be one of the most amazing stories I have ever read. My heartrate is up now, I was so into it. It was exciting and lovely and terrifying, all at once. And oh, does it make my mind race! Such ideas! Such things to fill my head and my dreams. Such possibilities.
But combined with my jetlag, I feel marginally insane. I remember this feeling, thankfully, so I can tell myself that it's really okay, that I'm not crazy and I'll feel better soon. But the paranoia is overwhelming. The sense of wrongness, from being awake when everyone else is asleep. Messing with circadian rythms is not for the faint of heart, I tell you what.
I cannot get over the story though, the convoluted genius of it. Incorporating dreams and magic and tea and ballgowns and life and death and love and family and time. All the things that I like best. Amazing. Just amazing. I am literally in awe. I am in awe, and I am paranoid and feverish and my head is filled with dreams and possibility. And hope. And fear. And the future.
And I think I will remember this, now, this night. Feeling so full, after finishing that book. The pain in my back and the heat in my face and the inumerable irrational fears that I feel -- feel in my arms, of all places. And some sensible part of my brain telling me I should stop this silly gushing and go to sleep, and most of the rest of me coming to the slow realization that I kind of hate that sensible part, and wish it would just shut up for awhile, and relax, and let me be.