Much time has passed since I last put a pen to these pages. And all that has transpired...well, my mind already knows it, so there's no need to detail it here. But I do want to start recording my journals again. I know that I found it relaxing in the past, to jot down my thoughts and memories and impressions. And I hope that I will again.
I find myself hesitating now. Come, Brynleigh. Write.
Aldwyn remains close by, though he is no longer keeping in my house. I think he is lodged at the Guest House for now, though he comes here first thing each morning and returns several times throughout the day. His concern and companionship are both reassuring and stifling. I want time alone, yet I must acknowledge that it is probably not the best thing for me right now. I intend to visit Leoffrith soon, to catch him before he goes away on his journey, as it will keep him away for quite a long time. There are others I would like to see and speak to; Sareva, Dryn, Cesistya, and more. Those who know me, and who knew my husband.
The house is painfully empty and quiet. It's odd to recall all the time I spent living alone before I met him. I didn't mind the empty quiet then. Perhaps I should look into getting a dog or a cat.
It seems unfair that spring should arrive without him here. Part of me wants to say "how dare the world keep going without him?" But that is the way of things, is it not? The world cares little for the individual pains and sorrows of its people.
I must keep moving my thoughts on, lest I get caught in the web of grief again. What else, what else...
The stable provides a pleasant enough diversion. There is always something to be done, always a stall to muck or a mane to untangle. I feel most at home there. There will be breaking and training to be done in a few months' time, and I will have to get my mind in order so that I can do it. I must learn to focus again, somehow.
It feels...good...to know that there is still a spark of life within me. A determination to fight the darkness and the despair. It is not a betrayal of my lost love. He would want this for me. He would tell me to fight on and return to the Brynleigh that he knew and loved. Not the ghostly shadow that traipsed around Death's door, even though it was my overwhelming love for him that made me do so. It was not a selfless love. It was selfish. He would not want me to die in order to follow him. So, for myself, and for him, I must live. I must stop indulging in my grief and my pain, and learn to hold him in my heart without harming myself.
It is not an easy thing to learn.
I meant to avoid writing much about you, my darling. My eyes burn with tears now. I am not quite there yet. I hope one day, I will be able to speak of you with only smiles and fond memories. But I am not yet able.
The afternoon wears on. I think I will take Jack and ride into Bree. I must get used to doing so alone, and coming back home alone. Better to begin now, than to put it off, as if procrastinating will make him come back.
Get back to living, Brynleigh.
