Memory writing #12
Perhaps I should not write anymore but I do not think this will be read. My other writings were and that is something that I have yet to fully imagine. Boromir saw them, he read them. He should have stopped when he found out what they were but he did not and that is a betrayal that I do not know how to speak of. He meant no harm.
We spoke when I found him, when I returned and saw him there with my writings scattered about. If I'd not found him that way, what would he have said? That I cannot know. He'd have spoken, of course. We spoke. It was a beginning only.
I do not know how to tell him what it means that he read my private thoughts that way. They truly were not meant to be read by anyone and why I was so foolish as to believe they'd never be seen... But I wrote in an attempt to help myself and I do not think my writing helped any. My brother now has read things that he should not, knows things he should not. It hurts me to know that he would continue to read something so obviously private. I have no secrets.
But did I ever have secrets? Back home, I was known. Not my inner thoughts but so much of my life was open to all the city. The people knew me, knew my comings and goings. I have always been in the eyes of the public. Not so much as Boromir, but enough. Is this really so different?
It has been so long since I've seen Gondor. Seventeen months nearly, and at least six months before that since I was in Minas Tirith. Two years since I have been home in truth. Two days of a false dream the island gave me, but that was a lie and I knew it then. It was too wrong, my life was not like that. Such a pleasant lie but a lie just the same.
My life now is not so pleasant and it feels unreal but it isn't. I am not the same Faramir who left Ithilien that April morning. I will never be that man again. Somehow, I must make myself into a Faramir of Gondor who can return home and hold up his head and do what he must do.
Boromir is so sure I will return. I was sure, back on the island. It was written already and so I knew that I would return home. Now it is I who do not know. Perhaps, as was my fancy when I was dying, I never left at all. There may be another Faramir there who continued in my place when I disappeared. As far as Boromir knows, I never left at all. There was no change in me from his point of view. It could be a different world or it could be something I simply do not understand.
What I do know is that I cannot continue this way. My life here seems unreal but it's what I have. I walk through it in a daze, it seems, doing my simple work and existing but not really feeling as though I live. That is not how I am.
I have lost myself. It began when I wished and Boromir disappeared, though I know it was not my wish that made it happen. It simply happened that way. I lost my brother and my best friend. I lost my home and purpose. I lost so many things, including my honour. There is no battle to fight and no quick way to regain that. Somehow I will find it again even if I have no idea where to even begin to look.
My mind is surely broken from trying to fix what has happened to me. For nearly three months I sat and contemplated it. I would be allowed out to work but part of me remained in that room and part of me is there still, in a small room in a dream, thinking of things that I never meant to do but happened just the same. The island turned me--into a woman. Into a child. It did things to all of us that we could not control. I have the memories and the nightmares but no amount of thinking or wishing will take it away.
I need it to go and I don't know how to put it behind me. I don't think that magic is the way. I have no wand like Dumbledore; I cannot take the memories from my head like strands of web and place them away for safekeeping. I don't know what to do with them or how to keep them from plaguing me but it must be done.
To start, I can be sure of a few things. The island changed me. I do not know why or how but it did. I was forgiven by some. I can take that and leave it behind, at least I can try. Maladicta and Logan forgave me and they meant it. No logic, why I hit that lady as I did but it happened and she forgave. Logan I could have killed so easily but I did not. They both were changed also and they forgave me. I am forgiven just a little bit.
Cersei did not forgive but I cannot blame her for that. And I knew what she was, to an extent, the day I met her. Her contempt is not so stinging as the contempt of Lord Denethor though at least I know why I earned hers--a bit of it. Lucius Malfoy never would have forgiven me. That I know. My shame is vast but it's certain he wouldn't forgive. We had made a peace and I broke it in my madness but he'd not have forgiven me. That is not a thing I can change and must live with.
I was forgiven by Jack Harkness but not truly. By mistake or by malice, I will never know and that is not something I can easily put behind me. That will haunt me a long time and I do not know how to be rid of it. Buffy did not forgive. I never saw her again. Those actions also plague me but I cannot go back and see her. I cannot hear her forgive or speak with contempt because I just cannot go back. These two will take more time and require more than I have in me now to overcome.
But two forgave and so, perhaps, I can begin to let go.
Somewhere is a new Faramir waiting. That person... I do not know how to find him but I am looking.
The other things, the insults and mocking, I will seek a way to make them lesser as well. I have been seeking it but I will try harder and somehow I will find a way. That does not happen so here. I am different but it is not so apparent or important. I'll find a way and be Faramir of Gondor again.
My death... I will continue to have nightmares. That is another thing I do not know how to put behind. Perhaps it will not always seem so immediate. It doesn't even now. But the dreams terrify me and I wake and it's all so close again. Or a word from someone and it's all back and I can see myself lying there and I wish that I had never again woken to see. Not that or what happened after. That will take more than I have to give right now, and a lot of time also.
I think that I have a start. There is too much to worry over now, too much at once. A little bit at a time and somehow I will make myself into a man who is not, well, not what I am now. The tears must stop. They serve no purpose anyway and they never have. I cannot get clean and so it is not such a loss to be unable to stay in the water so much as I was. Somehow... That's it. Somehow. I don't know how yet. Just somehow.
We spoke when I found him, when I returned and saw him there with my writings scattered about. If I'd not found him that way, what would he have said? That I cannot know. He'd have spoken, of course. We spoke. It was a beginning only.
I do not know how to tell him what it means that he read my private thoughts that way. They truly were not meant to be read by anyone and why I was so foolish as to believe they'd never be seen... But I wrote in an attempt to help myself and I do not think my writing helped any. My brother now has read things that he should not, knows things he should not. It hurts me to know that he would continue to read something so obviously private. I have no secrets.
But did I ever have secrets? Back home, I was known. Not my inner thoughts but so much of my life was open to all the city. The people knew me, knew my comings and goings. I have always been in the eyes of the public. Not so much as Boromir, but enough. Is this really so different?
It has been so long since I've seen Gondor. Seventeen months nearly, and at least six months before that since I was in Minas Tirith. Two years since I have been home in truth. Two days of a false dream the island gave me, but that was a lie and I knew it then. It was too wrong, my life was not like that. Such a pleasant lie but a lie just the same.
My life now is not so pleasant and it feels unreal but it isn't. I am not the same Faramir who left Ithilien that April morning. I will never be that man again. Somehow, I must make myself into a Faramir of Gondor who can return home and hold up his head and do what he must do.
Boromir is so sure I will return. I was sure, back on the island. It was written already and so I knew that I would return home. Now it is I who do not know. Perhaps, as was my fancy when I was dying, I never left at all. There may be another Faramir there who continued in my place when I disappeared. As far as Boromir knows, I never left at all. There was no change in me from his point of view. It could be a different world or it could be something I simply do not understand.
What I do know is that I cannot continue this way. My life here seems unreal but it's what I have. I walk through it in a daze, it seems, doing my simple work and existing but not really feeling as though I live. That is not how I am.
I have lost myself. It began when I wished and Boromir disappeared, though I know it was not my wish that made it happen. It simply happened that way. I lost my brother and my best friend. I lost my home and purpose. I lost so many things, including my honour. There is no battle to fight and no quick way to regain that. Somehow I will find it again even if I have no idea where to even begin to look.
My mind is surely broken from trying to fix what has happened to me. For nearly three months I sat and contemplated it. I would be allowed out to work but part of me remained in that room and part of me is there still, in a small room in a dream, thinking of things that I never meant to do but happened just the same. The island turned me--into a woman. Into a child. It did things to all of us that we could not control. I have the memories and the nightmares but no amount of thinking or wishing will take it away.
I need it to go and I don't know how to put it behind me. I don't think that magic is the way. I have no wand like Dumbledore; I cannot take the memories from my head like strands of web and place them away for safekeeping. I don't know what to do with them or how to keep them from plaguing me but it must be done.
To start, I can be sure of a few things. The island changed me. I do not know why or how but it did. I was forgiven by some. I can take that and leave it behind, at least I can try. Maladicta and Logan forgave me and they meant it. No logic, why I hit that lady as I did but it happened and she forgave. Logan I could have killed so easily but I did not. They both were changed also and they forgave me. I am forgiven just a little bit.
Cersei did not forgive but I cannot blame her for that. And I knew what she was, to an extent, the day I met her. Her contempt is not so stinging as the contempt of Lord Denethor though at least I know why I earned hers--a bit of it. Lucius Malfoy never would have forgiven me. That I know. My shame is vast but it's certain he wouldn't forgive. We had made a peace and I broke it in my madness but he'd not have forgiven me. That is not a thing I can change and must live with.
I was forgiven by Jack Harkness but not truly. By mistake or by malice, I will never know and that is not something I can easily put behind me. That will haunt me a long time and I do not know how to be rid of it. Buffy did not forgive. I never saw her again. Those actions also plague me but I cannot go back and see her. I cannot hear her forgive or speak with contempt because I just cannot go back. These two will take more time and require more than I have in me now to overcome.
But two forgave and so, perhaps, I can begin to let go.
Somewhere is a new Faramir waiting. That person... I do not know how to find him but I am looking.
The other things, the insults and mocking, I will seek a way to make them lesser as well. I have been seeking it but I will try harder and somehow I will find a way. That does not happen so here. I am different but it is not so apparent or important. I'll find a way and be Faramir of Gondor again.
My death... I will continue to have nightmares. That is another thing I do not know how to put behind. Perhaps it will not always seem so immediate. It doesn't even now. But the dreams terrify me and I wake and it's all so close again. Or a word from someone and it's all back and I can see myself lying there and I wish that I had never again woken to see. Not that or what happened after. That will take more than I have to give right now, and a lot of time also.
I think that I have a start. There is too much to worry over now, too much at once. A little bit at a time and somehow I will make myself into a man who is not, well, not what I am now. The tears must stop. They serve no purpose anyway and they never have. I cannot get clean and so it is not such a loss to be unable to stay in the water so much as I was. Somehow... That's it. Somehow. I don't know how yet. Just somehow.