Today has been difficult. Each one has been since this sorry affair started. Moreso since he died.
I have barely been able to eat or sleep. I have had no energy. Even talking has been onorous. I have been so lifeless, so listless. Nothing has mattered to me and it seemed that nothing ever would again.
I know not how or why he hit upon the idea. Earlier, Bearn had ordered me home, stating that I was not ready to be out alone after I threw a plate of cake at Ruthrey. This evening, though, he changed his mind. He came to me in anger, or so it seemed. The words he spoke, the things he said, they made me angry in turn. I stood and pushed at him, I shouted and ranted. I said things that I did not mean, things that I only half-meant and a good few things that I meant wholeheartedly.
I know why he did it. He wished to snap me out of the depression I was in. He wished to force me to feel again and it worked. For a time, I felt anger toward him, toward Davick and Drevorin, Daigan and Blodwynn, Ruthrey and even myself.
A part of me wishes it had not worked, for when the anger subsided it was replaced by something else.
I hurt now. I hurt so much. I am filled with confusion and pain and loss. I cried. I cried so hard and for so long but it did not help. Every breath feels as if it will choke me. Every beat of my heart makes me want to scream in agony. A large part of me wishes to return to Eregion and throw myself after him, but that I will not do. He gave his life for me. To relinquish my own now would be to spit upon the sacrifice he made. I must go on, even as pained as I am, if only to honour that.
Did I love him? I do not know. I was too scared to do so, too unwilling to share my heart with another. I felt something for him, but I never allowed myself to examine that feeling too closely. I was too much of a coward to open up to anyone, nevermind him. I still am.
Did I love him? I would suppose that I did, for why else would his loss make my heart ache so abominably?
I spoke with Davick a short time ago. He tells me that he is to leave soon. I shall miss him and I shall miss Marinette. He is free now. Free of his anger and his hatred. This is good for him as is the guilt he feels for the wrongs he has done. In repentance, I hope that he will find some measure of peace and finally lay his past to rest. I forgave him. I told him as much. I forgave him everything, for how could I not?
This man, this apparantly terrible man, has been nothing but good to me. Even when he tormented me, still he did so in an effort to aid me; to make me stronger. He has been there for me all along, nurturing me, helping me, protecting me. Now he is to leave, but he gave me a trinket; a whistle, and he made me a promise that he will come should I ever have need.
Soon I will have lost two men who I have loved. I try to feel happiness for him, but I am filled with naught but sorrow.
