Found:
I haven't felt much like writing of late. There hasn't seemed to be much of a point in doing so. It would, after all, be little more than repetition on the general despondency and sorrow that I have toiled under since that horrendous day in Fornost. Nothing much has changed in that regard. I still won't sleep in the house, prefering to spend my nights upon the straw in the stables. I still suffer nightmares regardless. I still have little appetite, eating only to keep my strength up, only because I must. There still remains that him-shaped void within my heart and the crippling sadness within my mind.
I miss him terribly.
As the intangible pain of loss grows, however, my physical hurts diminish. I barely need the cane now, though I keep it with me just in case. With more exercise to strengthen my leg, I may be able to go without it entirely in the coming weeks. At least until winter returns.
I received a letter from Khazim this morning, asking that I meet him for lunch at the Hunter's Lodge in Bree. I duly did so, and some small part of me that remains alive is glad of it. Though the food tasted largely of nothing to me, and the conversation mainly consisted of love and associated business, still it wasn't about my love life, or lack thereof, but his, which made it rather more easy to discuss.
Recalling his wish to become more comfortable with physical contact, I kissed him upon the cheek when the meal was done. His blushing made me smile. There is something endearingly bashful about the man.
I lingered a while after his departure, not for company but to reminisce. It was here, after our Yule meal, that Rowan, after three years of fighting it, finally relented and admitted his feelings for me. A bittersweet thing in hindsight, but the simple fact that I could sit there, across from where we sat that day, and feel far more of the sweetness than bitterness for that moment, perhaps that is progress.
Perhaps there is a way out of this pit after all.
