I am not sure what has come over me these past few weeks. Since I parted ways with him on such aching terms, a shadow has taken me that I cannot shake off. I have lost track of time and do not know exactly where I am now. I know this river beside me is the Brandywine. I am not near any homes or villages. I saw Cormac last night. He came and laid himself over me as I slept. Though I should not say "slept" as I did not slumber, but only laid down and waited for the night to pass. I have run out of food, though water is plentiful here. I do not feel hungry and I do not feel any urge to eat.
I cannot understand why things are the way they are. He told me time and time again, that I should not care for him or get close to him. Yet he always seemed to want me close and asked me to stay. He was the first to bestow a hasty and impulsive kiss on me. What can one do under such conflicting statements? I suppose wisdom would have guided me away from him, and I would not listen to it. A man so full of demons and a woman who is nothing and no one. What hope is there between them? Yet I tried. I resigned myself to the folly of trying to care for someone. I thought I might stumble into good fortune, I suppose, and find out what it was like to have a friend. Someone to cherish.
But on our last day in each other's company, I tried to express my affection and he did not reciprocate. And my heart simply could not bear the hurt.
I was never anything but a burden to the world, since the day of my birth. This was reaffirmed consistently through my childhood. I was not even worthy of a proper name, or to know who my blood was. I thought that escaping the caravanner would be my one and only chance for some sort of meaningful existence. I thought that encountering the hooded man was somehow providential. Meaningful. Fated.
I would like to believe that he will miss me, and give me a passing thought now and then. It seems best this way. I remember how the candlemaker wept for her dead daughter. I don't want anyone to weep for me when all that is left of me is my bones. Even Cormac will find his way without me. After all, he has been much more my guardian than I ever was his. It seems fitting, somehow, that I should vanish into obscurity here, in the wilderness. Why not? I do not know where my home is. I cannot seek it out and lay my body down there. This is as good a place as any.
