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quarr

i’m really bad at this, you know that better than anyone. i don’t have any words that fit when it truly matters, when i don’t get to be the clever outside observer. the ones i have are all trite, unless they’re presumptuous ironies flitting about like gaudy insects, flailing desperately to distract.

but i have to try. because i love you, and i hate that life has dealt you such a crappy hand this latest round. (if i could i would slip you all my aces in a heartbeat).

i’m not going to say “i know how you feel” because i don’t. i don’t even want to imagine it, to be honest. it’s inconceivable. i’ve already said “i’m so very sorry” and i am, but it’s not doing you much good, is it? and i want to rant and rage about feeling so damn unable to help you, and i want you to help me figure out what to say like you always do. which is damn selfish of me, because it isn’t about me.

but i wish you weren’t so very far away. and i wish we could find the door to that perfect silence again, and stay in it until things make some sort of sense. and i wish that then i could come up with the right thing to say.

 
Na ‘Aear, na ‘Aear! Mýl ‘lain nallol,
I sûl ribiel a i falf ‘loss reviol.
Na annûn hae, ias Anor dannol.
Cair vith, cair vith, lastal hain canel,
Lamath in-gwaithen i gwennin no nin?
Gwannathon, gwannathon taur i onnant nin;
an midui orath vín a dennin inath vín.
Trevedithon ‘aear land erui ciriel.
Falvath enainn bo Mathedfalas dannol,
Lamath vilui vi Tol Gwannen cannen,
Vi Tol Ereb, ned Bar-in-Edhil i Edain ú-gennir,
Ias lais ú-dhannar: dôr en-gwaith nín an-uir!”

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