I don't know what to write.
The day is either seeking to comfort or mock me, with its perfect sunshine, green fields, and blossoming trees.
His presence is a ...
It's ...
(damp smudges blot the paper here)
What do you do when a ghost suddenly walks the earth again? I grieved like a widow, and I buried my hopes and dreams. Now this spirit, so warm, so inviting, dares come back from the dead.
I grieved for Lainric, and the thought of him brings me no agony as it once did. Why does he, then?
And I miss Aallan. I miss him so much. But I am so grateful that our friends haven't abandoned him to a life of exile and lonely wandering.
...I know he means no harm. He is too honorable to wish to interfere. I wonder that the whole world doesn't love him...though I daresay all that meet him do indeed, love him. I cannot guess at the nature of a Ranger's heart. Part of me would like to nurture the sentiment that he will always love me and only me. But how selfish I am to think such a thing. I wish him happiness, not misery in pining after my memory.
The price of great love, is great pain.
I ought to throw this journal into the fire.
