A few weeks had passed. It was agony. I had made myself resist the urge to transport to the library out of fear that if I did and he wasn't there it would confirm his disdain for me. But I also knew that if I found him and was able to talk with him one more time and try to explain, that no matter what happened, I would accept the outcome. So, with that in mind, I wished...
Deep intake of breath .... I was in the library. I didn't move or walk ... I just stood where I was and scanned the room. I didn't see him. I wanted to look around but I was hesitant to move about and explore. Maybe I should just go back and return in a few days. Maybe it was too soon. Or worse, maybe he resisted. My heart sank.
I took a step. And then another. I did not venture too far, just enough to peek around a few corners. Now I was able to see the entire library. My eyes scanned the place ... he wasn't there. With a heavy heart, I left the library and returned to my other life.
I took a step. And then another. I did not venture too far, just enough to peek around a few corners. Now I was able to see the entire library. My eyes scanned the place ... he wasn't there. With a heavy heart, I left the library and returned to my other life.
I went back to reality, although at this point I no longer knew what reality was. Viggo was in my blood and in my every thought. It was torture. I have resolved that I will not put this behind me until I have one more encounter. I always thought that closure was a luxury that only a few get to experience - a ridiculous idea - but this situation is so odd that I know I will never be able to rest until I have had one last opportunity to explain. My last words to him were so shocking that I realized he would need time to process it, and maybe, after he had the opportunity to do so, we could speak once again ... even if it would be for the last time.
Bolstered by the fact that I could still transport myself I became obsessed. It was all I could think about. I started transporting twice a week, then every day .... sometimes twice a day. It was crazy I know, but I couldn't stop. At some point I knew I'd have to end this madness but until I felt that I'd done everything possible, until I grew tired and drained of hope, I had to continue trying.
Bolstered by the fact that I could still transport myself I became obsessed. It was all I could think about. I started transporting twice a week, then every day .... sometimes twice a day. It was crazy I know, but I couldn't stop. At some point I knew I'd have to end this madness but until I felt that I'd done everything possible, until I grew tired and drained of hope, I had to continue trying.
Weeks turned into months. I was transporting all the time now. I was losing weight. Losing sleep. Losing my sanity. I was growing so tired. I had determined that if I did not find him soon ... then I'd have to end it. I would stop traveling the ether and stop visiting the library. It was the only sane thing to do. My life had become so unmanageable and crazy that I was afraid I'd truly go mad. I resolved that after tomorrow, if I didn't not encounter him, I would stop. Forever. I would stop longing and crying over him. It would be done and I would move onto to some semblance of a normal life again.
With deep resolve ... I wished. I transported to the same spot I always did ... by the elevator. I stood there doing my usual scan of the room before venturing forward. After having spent the last month crying myself to sleep, punishing myself for my deceit, wishing and hoping for resolution, going over and over those last words I said to him .... "ding ding" ... the elevator rang and broke my train of self-pitying thought. As I turned around the doors were opening. IT WAS HIM. He was in the elevator!
Our eyes met. Mine full of fear and trepidation. He approached me. My heart raced but I was thankful that it would soon be over. I was so tired of the stress and anxiety this had caused me. I was ready to be done with it. He held his hand out. I took it. He led me to the place where we first sat on the floor of that library so many months ago. I felt oddly calm ... I was so emotionally drained by now that it was a relief not to feel the anxiety of the past couple of months. I was truly exhausted and I felt that however this went, it would soon be over and I was okay with it.
"You look terrible" he said.
(... to be continued)
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