The cycle is complete. An admission given, a rejection recieved. The tale ends, as I knew that it would - ahead of time, perhaps, but better that it be premature than to spend countless months of waiting for what I know shall come.
A heart freely given but thrown away. How many times will I allow this to happen? No more. This will be the last. The tears I now shed are to be the final testament; the epitath to mark the resting place of my desires for him.
He lies to me even now, but it matters not. I care not. The deed is done, the decision made, there can be no turning back. I will not tread this path again.
I died in Angmar. For the hundredth time I died but continued to breathe. Hope drove me onwards, but hope is gone now. There is nothing left.
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Journal the Fifteenth - Completion
Submitted by Ilaru on August 28th, 2011
