Headstrong Heart: Impetuous

Dear Gaelyn,

I wish to apologize for the brevity of my last letter. When pen touched paper, my thoughts scattered and I could not put a sentence together that made sense. I did not wish to hold up the other letters, nor did I wish to leave you without, so I made do with what I had.

I wish I could say all that I want to, but even now, more developed words fail me. Form and function do not fit the multitude of emotions that course through me now. I want to write volumes and volumes, but as the shadow over Minas Tirith darkens, all I can say is this:

I was falling in love with you and I left not because I did not love you, but because I did. I was just too proud to say it.

I did not understand it and had not meant for it to occur. When you told me that you could not do it anymore, I was not prepared for how difficult it was to breathe and could only be thankful that statues did not need to do so to exist. I had been so long in a mode of protection, shielding myself from the shame and the loneliness of my home city, that I did not recognize that I snuffed out any response other than the one I was used to presenting. Formal. Business-like. Matter-of-factual. And I could not dispute the facts: you were not ready.

Now that I sit here in my uncle’s spare room far away from home, from safety, and from you, do I realize what a fool I was to leave Durrow. And not because Durrow is so far away from this place that so soon will be under siege. But because I miss you and have missed you since the day I left. I wish I had another day to play with Atrian and see your smile. Even if it hadn’t been for me, if I had been able to turn this feeling back into friendship, it would have been wonderful to see once the pain went away.

And now, I fear I will die with that pain. I will not evacuate; I have been helping the healers and somehow, as insignificant as my hands are, I find they are needed here. It is funny how our worlds turn out sometimes, is it not? I have searched most of my life in an attempt to find a way to make myself useful despite the delicate nature of my sex. And now, my usefulness will likely be my doom. But I am all right with that. I have found my peace with death and I know that I am doing what I can to defend the kingdom. I only hope that our efforts here buy time for the rest of the Free peoples to gather what strength they can to defend their homes.

Find your happiness, Gaelyn. Thank you for the happiness you have given me.

Yours,

Halvel

 

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