It feels so strange, this caring. Sure, I cared a little, but I’ve found myself doing so more now than before. It is dangerous. I cannot give in. Not too much. Not to the wrong people. Surviving was easier when I only cared about me, but I am not surviving now. I am living.
~ ~ ~
It’s been so quiet and lonely since they’ve gone. I never knew that was what I was before, and now there is no going back. I should visit the temple more, and the Warf, but there are new reasons to fear the alley’s. So I will read my books, and be here for when the Lady needs me.
Shake it off, silly. Go clean something.
~ ~ ~
How some people can separate themselves from certain situations, I will never understand. I never could, though, could I? I will be strong for him, and for them. Because I should be. Because I want to be. I will give everything, because they have given me more than I ever hoped to have.
And now suddenly I smell the funeral pyre beneath a red Angmarim sky. I close my eyes and I see the cold rain hitting the empty road and the empty shell of what I was. I am not afraid. I do not fear. I am petrified.