Tomas, pt. 12

* A new, if still tattered journal sits in the bottom of Tomas’ pack once more *

I never truly believed I’d see her again, but the thought of it always lingered in the back of my mind. A hope… or a wish… like a dull pain that is always there, but can be ignored, most of the time. Would she have forgiven me? Would she have run away? I remember the hurt in her eyes. The fear too. I had done what was needed, what was deserved, what was right. And the others all fled. I was alone then, truly alone. At least that was how I felt. We were hunted. I was hunted. The others fled to save themselves from what I had brought down upon us, but what choice did I have. She could not accept me as I was and if I remained, I was a danger to us all.

Now, not only distance separates us, but there is a gulf of time as well. Those events that placed me on this path… that drove the dagger between us… they have yet to happen. But from here there is nothing I can do to stop them either. That time will come once again, but by then my bones will long since have turned to dust. There will be no forgiveness for me, for that which I did… for that I have yet to do.

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