iii;
I am uncertain of a great deal in a very short span of time. The restlessness, the fear that cloaks him...and he will not speak to me of it. As promised, I shall wait for a time when he is more comfortable divulging the reasons behind his ambiguous words and distant actions. That does not keep me from worrying.
Luke. Leia. Where did you return to? The point in time that you could do the most, I imagine. Idleness does not seem like it would have suited either of you, time of peace or war.
Obi-Wan. My friend.
I cannot, shall not mourn the living for departure. This sadness.
I wish you all every good turn of fortune. Regardless of the manner in which this City claims to handle memory, I have faith that I shall retain something of these encounters. No time was wasted, and the things we did not say were not meant to be said here and now.
I shall remember.
Anakin...what do you keep from me? It is such that--- I would not press--
In any world, at any time, we are at the risk of losing those dear to us. We yearn, out of love, out of anger, out of loss and helplessness, for one more moment, one more day, a year, a lifetime. That it is not fair is not necessarily true, however. I believe, with all respect to other perspectives, in the frame that this City presents, to be taken without warning or with it is not a matter of fairness. Given the option, I am not at all certain that I could choose. Sudden departure gives no time to say good-bye, but some would argue that this is less painful. Departure with warning gives some time, but never enough, as often we are loathe to see these people leave at all, but we are still able to give final embraces, exchange final words. Which is the better? I am not one to be glad, often, of things taken out of my hands, but in this instance, I think I should be grateful.
I would be weak to say I could not let them go. I barely knew them, but I feel as though I knew you...Luke, Leia...better than logic permits me.
The spaces where these people have been cannot be filled by others, but I feel that to move forward while time keeps us here we must look to other hearts. For every kindness between two or more people here, our time is that much more worthwhile. While the people who leave are brave beyond measure to return home, to face that which awaits them because they have no choice, the people here must also take something of our own courage. To live here in each passing day by saying that it does not matter, to shield yourself behind the single reason that you will not remember, that is cheating yourself, and you have lost at this game presented to you before it has even finished.
I think we owe it to ourselves to make the most of what is here. As for what is not here, people or the opportunity of home, this is a more difficult thing to ignore: the lack of rather than the presence of. It is, perhaps, better to acknowledge it, and then set it aside as best as one can, because while some things are in our power here, those two quite obviously are not. There is no point to running in circles when walking in a straight line will suffice.
The straight line is more scrutinizing, but that can be said of many direct approaches.
Luke. Leia. Where did you return to? The point in time that you could do the most, I imagine. Idleness does not seem like it would have suited either of you, time of peace or war.
Obi-Wan. My friend.
I cannot, shall not mourn the living for departure. This sadness.
I wish you all every good turn of fortune. Regardless of the manner in which this City claims to handle memory, I have faith that I shall retain something of these encounters. No time was wasted, and the things we did not say were not meant to be said here and now.
I shall remember.
Anakin...what do you keep from me? It is such that--- I would not press--
In any world, at any time, we are at the risk of losing those dear to us. We yearn, out of love, out of anger, out of loss and helplessness, for one more moment, one more day, a year, a lifetime. That it is not fair is not necessarily true, however. I believe, with all respect to other perspectives, in the frame that this City presents, to be taken without warning or with it is not a matter of fairness. Given the option, I am not at all certain that I could choose. Sudden departure gives no time to say good-bye, but some would argue that this is less painful. Departure with warning gives some time, but never enough, as often we are loathe to see these people leave at all, but we are still able to give final embraces, exchange final words. Which is the better? I am not one to be glad, often, of things taken out of my hands, but in this instance, I think I should be grateful.
I would be weak to say I could not let them go. I barely knew them, but I feel as though I knew you...Luke, Leia...better than logic permits me.
The spaces where these people have been cannot be filled by others, but I feel that to move forward while time keeps us here we must look to other hearts. For every kindness between two or more people here, our time is that much more worthwhile. While the people who leave are brave beyond measure to return home, to face that which awaits them because they have no choice, the people here must also take something of our own courage. To live here in each passing day by saying that it does not matter, to shield yourself behind the single reason that you will not remember, that is cheating yourself, and you have lost at this game presented to you before it has even finished.
I think we owe it to ourselves to make the most of what is here. As for what is not here, people or the opportunity of home, this is a more difficult thing to ignore: the lack of rather than the presence of. It is, perhaps, better to acknowledge it, and then set it aside as best as one can, because while some things are in our power here, those two quite obviously are not. There is no point to running in circles when walking in a straight line will suffice.
The straight line is more scrutinizing, but that can be said of many direct approaches.