As ever, I put pen to paper, not knowing what I wish to say, nor where my thoughts will go. Does anyone else have a mind that feels so brimming-over with fullness, that it becomes essentially blank?
I find that I feel more at home here in Bancross than I have anywhere else that I have laid my head over the past three years. Has it been so long? So long, since my beloved left me? Aye, it was three winters past now. I cannot believe it. He has been gone far longer than I knew him and had him with me. Yet those sweet days we shared are timeless and eternal, and hold as much power over my soul as they ever did. I wonder at the timing of Fate. I wonder, if I had met Saexwyrd a year or two later, if we might be happily settled and married right now. I loved him, but could I ever love him as I wished to? He desired an untarnished heart, I think, and he deserves one. It does little good to linger on hypotheticals. At least I can think now upon Conrob, without feeling an immediate loss of my breath and a blade in my heart. But still I cannot, or I will say I should not, think too deeply upon his memory. It is still too sweet, too wistful. And I would still welcome Death if it would harry me back to his side, even for a moment. I think, as long as I feel that way, I am not whole.
Melancholy thoughts! Is this the flavor of my diary today? I am not afraid of it, if it is so.
I still had a few bundles of possessions packed away, from when I moved from Snowbourn and into the cottage beside the Bancross stable. I explored them this morning, and found the wooden carving that Baldmar gave me. How long ago was it? When I left Bree, I think. So long ago now. The memories are hazy. I held it on my lap and ran my fingers over the shapes. A bear and a horse. “It is us!” I remember saying to him. How childishly idyllic I was! So trusting, so open. I wonder where his path leads him today, and whether he is a hundred or a thousand leagues away.
I am too young to be living solely on memories. Aren’t I? When is youth ended for a woman? Many women my own age have been married near a decade and have a house full of children. Shouldn’t I have some sense of a wide avenue of Life still before me, rife with possibilities and new experiences? Perhaps it is only the pallor of winter that affects me so. I would like to say that spring will bring happier and more hopeful thoughts. But spring makes me think of him.
I will just have to let Time do its work. Time is the only thing that can bring new hopes, new memories, and new friendships.
I suppose the approach of Yule makes one a bit more thoughtful and introspective. Winter is an inward season, after all. Not only for Men, but for the world upon which we move. All life becomes still and quiet, from the sky-reaching boughs to the low-crawling beasts. I may yet pray that there will come a winter where I have someone beside me, to warm me in body, heart, and soul. Until then...let me find gratitude for the blessed gifts of life and health and home.
After all, we have all been invited to visit Mearhe in a few days, to celebrate the Yule season together. I have not yet seen her home in the wood, and I look forward to sharing a moment of warmth and joy with my kinsmen.
