Voyeur - (A Series) - The End

"What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from." - T S Eliot


And this...was how I lost you.

I have a hundred different theories, ideas, whims, guilty feelings of fault of this or that kind. The list is endless if I sit and let myself think about it. Often, I can not stop the thinking; marching words and phrases, relentless syllables that form accusations, or jokes, or quiet acceptances. In the end, I tried to simply feel the inevitable truth.

You were gone.

No matter how many times I reached, my hands were empty, light with the weightlessness of the result, yet heavy...oh so heavy with the reality.

And now ...here you are. And I am equally as suspicious of the return as I was of the disappearance. A hundred theories plague me, swirling like a festival joker caught in the air and whirling, jogging, dancing through the moments.

I did not trust you at first. Who do you tattle to, journal of mine? Who reads my secrets? My stories. My thoughts. I stared at you from a distance, curious. Then I acquiesced. To my heart, to my head, and to fate herself.

You have held all my secrets up til now, and I am richer for it.

Welcome home.