Introduction (or, Why Am I Doing This Again?)
Torech Besruth, Falathlorn, Lindon
72 Hrívë in the Reckoning of Imladris
Why am I doing this again?
Some forty days have passed since my life was thrown into torment by the sudden departure of my betrothed, a Mortal whose very name now causes me such pain that I cannot bear to have it spoken or written. And that pain manifests itself in so many and various ways.
So why am I reliving those days? Why am I once more taking quill to parchment and recording my wild emotions and my flights of fantasy? Many have the nights been since my betrothed's vanishing, staring into the fire or wandering to the old favorite haunts. Why do I indulge in these ridiculous fantasies?
Because I miss being loved, I presume.
That, in and of itself, is a fantasy; that I could ever be loved. The end of my betrothal proved that, or so I thought: the wordless departure, the vague hints and rumor, all ended finally with the revelation that he was not just gone, but dead. My betrothed had been slain while on errantry, laboring in the service of those who keep the peace and guard the lands. Perhaps this ennobles his demise, or not. It does not and cannot change the fact that once more, I am alone, and unloved - the difference being that now, I have the knowledge that I am not unlovable.
And that, I deem, is the reason for this journal's existence. I have been loved, and I can express that love in return. If my bespoken Mortal taught me anything, left me with any legacy at all. it is the simple proven fact that I can know that elusive feeling.
My former chronicle is now removed from my presence, tucked away in a remote corner of the Scholar's Enclave at Duillond. Out of sight and reach, but not out of mind. So I start this chronicle, this journal, in the hope that something new, something altogether different shall begin or come to the forefront of my thought.
Because I wish to know love again.
Next Entry: Thoughts on a Snowy Morn
