Imladris, the Third Age of Middle-earth, 2
The time of battle is over, and Sauron is defeated. I feel relieved, yet uneasy at the same moment. Is it odd for me to feel two opposing emotions at a single point in time? Truly an oxymoron if there ever was one. What is odd is that I don't know exactly why I feel so ill at ease. Perhaps it all has to do with my rebirth; when I look back, I've had little time to adjust to this new life in a new body but in an old home.

My second childhood felt hurried as the memories of my old life flooded back into my memory. Indeed I resided in Valinor a mere one hundred years before the Valar sent me back here to Middle-earth with the Istari. And now here I sit in my chambers in Imladris, writing in this diary. I've never kept a diary before, but now the need suddenly overtakes me; and thus I write here as the evening wears on, Ithil my only source of light. The breeze that blows through the open window in front of me refreshes me, and dries my tears. Why do I cry? For various reasons I suppose. For my lost life, my lost childhood; mostly, though, I cry for my lost love.

Vanimaer...you do not understand how difficult it is for me to get through the day at times. I see things that remind me of you, and the memories are painful. Celebrķan is here visiting; I watched her and Elrond walking along the banks of Bruinen, hand-in-hand, from my window the other day. They were smiling and laughing, occasionally sharing kisses when they thought no one was looking. But I was looking, and it saddened me to see them. I am happy for them, but...but they remind me too much of us in the past.

If only you were here now, Ecthelion. If only you were here and knew how much I need to hear your voice, feel your touch, just have you close. I want to walk the banks of the Bruinen just as Elrond and Celebrķan did, just as we used to do in Nevrast. I think of the long strolls we used to take along the shoreline, all the times we returned late and were scolded by Turgon as if we were children. I wish with all my heart that I had those days back.

But I can't ever have them back. I can't ever have you back, because you are too far out of my reach. The Valar have given me a great gift, but I do not know if they will grant you the same. Oh vanimaer, how it pains me to think of you never returning to this world. The ache in my chest causes my whole body to tremble in fear and need. I can't sleep some nights thinking such dire thoughts; instead, I spend the time in darkness, curled beneath the sheets crying as I think of you. In the morning either Elrond or Erestor will find me and try to coax me out of my despair. They mean well, but they do not understand. They do not understand the love I have for you, the love which seems to grow day by day, even now.

I feel the cold those nights when I despair and mourn over my love. I'm not supposed to feel the cold, but I do. I fall into myself, become a mere shell of the being everyone knows me as. Stormy nights are even worse, for they remind me of both you and my fall. The thunder is too alike to the Balrog's screams, and each flash of lighting reminds me of your face as you danced in the rain. I don't venture out on rainy days anymore like the others do. I don't want to be reminded of you, be reminded of what I no longer have.

It hurts, Ecthelion. It hurts when you aren't here, when I can't see, hear or feel you. I spent almost my entire life in your company, having you at my side. I feel empty without you, alone and frightened. Come back to me, vanimaer. Come back to me. I don't want to be alone anymore. I feel as if my tears will never cease, as if they will keep running until I drown in my own pain. Come and be with me again. Saes, vanimaer. Saes...

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