Questions, questions, always questions and rarely answers. Daigan gave me this book. He said that I should write in it, but I still do not understand. Why did he give me this? Why should I write? What should I write? Will it help? So many things that I do not know and cannot work out, so maybe I should just do as he said and find out where it leads.
So, I write....
It has been a few weeks now since I left the house of Baecere. A part of me thinks that I should never have gone. It was warm there, sheltered. Baecere ensured that I had food and a comfortable place to sleep. I had my own room. After so long, having my own room was like living in paradise. I could shut out the world there, forget all that has happened and just enjoy feeling safe and cared for. I could hear him moving around the house, sometimes speaking to his friends, and for all that the extra people made me nervous, still I knew that it would be fine. He would not let them bother me and I knew that, with him, I was safe.
But I left.
I had to leave, did I not?
Baecere wanted to travel, but he also wanted to make sure that I would be alright. He said he would come back every week to check on me, but that would get in the way of his travelling. I could not allow that. After everything he has done for me, how could I possibly stand in the way of his wishes? He had to leave and I had to get out of his way.
I left him a note. He cannot read, but I knew he would find someone to read it to him. I told him not to look for me, that I had to do this for him. I truly believe that, but still I felt some sadness as I watched him go.
He never saw me there, crouched behind the bushes near Buckland. He never saw me hiding away, but I saw him. He looked so tall and proud atop his horse, riding along in the procession with his friends. He looked so handsome and confident. He looked so happy.
I smiled then. I smiled as my heart broke and I watched my protector, my saviour, my only friend ride away over the bridge and into the Shire. I smiled because he had done as I had asked, he had let me get out of his way, and he was happy.
I miss him sometimes. I miss our talks and the way he made me feel. I miss his belief that I could get better. I miss his faith in people, his cheerful nature and gentle ways. I miss his smile and his laugh but most of all, I just miss him.
I wonder if I will see him again. I wonder if I will ever lie on my bed in my room again, dry and warm and safe. Will I ever feel safe again?
