What Hurts The Most
What Hurts The Most
That don’t bother me.
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out.
I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while,
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me.
There are days every now and again I pretend I’m okay,
But that’s not what gets me…
What hurts the most was being so close
And having so much to say, and watching you walk away,
And never knowing what could have been,
And not seeing that loving you is what I was tryin’ to do…*
A cloaked figure stood on the edge of those who’d come to mourn the passing of an age. The Reign of the King had come to an end. Elessar had been taken from his people. The cloaked one watched as people walked by the tomb, paying their respects to their beloved King. He couldn’t help the tear that escaped the corner of his eye. So many things left unsaid, undone.
He pushed back the hood of his cloak and made his own way past the tomb, not caring now who saw him. There had been whispers thorough the land about what was really between the pair, but they were just rumors. There had been nothing, save a deep, everlasting friendship that bordered on more. The mourners all bowed their heads as he passed, in respect.
Legolas paused in front of Aragorn’s grieving widow and bowed. Words didn’t need to be shared. He and Arwen had an understanding. He turned to the sarcophagus that held his beloved and ran his hand over the cold stone. He sniffed and blinked back tears in a futile effort to stop them. You never really know what you have, or would have had, until it’s gone. Legolas spoke, but his voice was naught more than a croaked whisper, “Merely a grain of sand, in the desert that is time…insignificant, but so very precious.”
*It’s hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go,
But I’m doin’ it. It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone.
Still Harder getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret,
But I know if I could do it over, I would trade, give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken…
What hurts the most is being so close,
And having so much to say, and watching you walk away,
And never knowing what could have been,
And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do…*
** It was shortly after Aragorn’s coronation. The Hobbits had returned to the Shire, but Legolas and the Dwarf had elected to remain behind in Gondor for a spell. Legolas found that rest was easier here, that it ever would have been in Mirkwood. He was not eager to return to his tyrannical father.
He’d spent a majority of his time with Aragorn, which Arwen found displeasing. But she let it go. She understood the bond between them. They were more than friends, but not in the carnal sense. Never like that.
One day though, the pair had been riding outside the city and had come to rest for a moment on a grassy hill, overlooking Osgiliath. Legolas looked to his friend and smiled, but the smile faded as quickly as it had appeared, causing Aragorn to frown in concern.
Legolas smiled again, “You shouldn’t frown, mellon-nin, it’ll give you wrinkles.” He winked and turned his horse slightly, so he could look at the king.
Aragorn chuckled, then sighed, “I was trying to figure out what’s bothering you, but alas, I am at a loss. You seem jovial enough, but there is a black cloud of impending Doom hanging over your head. What’s on your mind, old friend?”
Legolas looked away, casting a glance at the rebuilt city on the river. They had made much progress in the months after the war. It never ceased to amaze him. Men were survivors. Doomed to die, but instilled with such phenomenal perseverance. He looked back at his friend, “Do you ever think about the future, Aragorn? What do you see? I don’t mean for your people…but…for us.”
Aragorn frowned again, then sighed, “At one point…I saw you…just you…no one else…no Arwen…no children…no Gondor…just you…” He paused and looked at his friend, “Why ask such a thing? You know full well that we had separate lives…we were never meant to be…there was never an ‘us’, Legolas…It simply wasn’t meant to be. What do you see?”
Legolas nodded and looked off into the distance. He never graced Aragorn with an answer, just took off, leaving everything behind. Dwarf included. He was headed north, toward his home. Aragorn was right. It was never meant to be. The Gods could be so cruel sometimes. He never returned to Gondor and he never saw Aragorn again.**
*What hurts the most is being so close,
And having so much to say, and watching you walk away,
And never knowing what could have been,
And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do…*
The crowd had cleared out. It was just Legolas now. He knelt down beside his friend’s final resting place and wept bitterly. Gods, if only he could turn back the hands of time and tell his most beloved friend all the things that should have been said. If only….so many of those…totally meaningless now.
Legolas sat back and looked at the sarcophagus of his friend, then wiped his eyes and sighed, “I saw you….”
*Not seeing that loving you, is what I was trying to do…..*