Sam Unspoken

How did this happen?  How did I find myself here, now, unhappy?  I'd made no promise to Rose about marrying her or nothing so why did I say anything? 

I can't think straight.  My head hurts.  My heart hurts more when I think of what I did.  Of how his eyes looked when I told him.  I saw the stab of pain there before that mask came down.  It was there alright.

I don't even know how I got here.  Must have walked.  Haven't walked out this far since we got back.  Had to be alone.  Can't think straight.  Couldn't say if it's hot or cold.  It just feels numb to me.  But if I'm numb why am I hurting so much?

I never knew anything could hurt so much. 

He's hurting too, I know it.  My Frodo.  Want to hold him.  Want him to know he'll never be alone, never hurt any more, that his Sam will take care of everything.  That I'll be there for him.  Just like I always have been.  Just like I always wanted to be.

But I won't.

Reality hits me, hurts me, knocks me flat.  I feel winded, broken, soiled.  Marriage.  Marriage awaits me.  Can't do it.  Can't.  Won't.  They can't make me.  I'll take him away somewhere.  Somewhere safe, where we can be alone together.  Him and me.  For always.  Just like it was meant to be.  Just like I wanted .....

Tears.

Can't stop crying.  Nothing has hurt as bad as this.  My love, my love, come to me, come to me, please, I beg of you ..... I beg of you. 

Frodo.

Always at the centre of my life.  Always there.  Never remember a time when he wasn't there.  Jealous of Merry, why couldn't I be his cousin?  Wanted more, much, much more but couldn't have it.  Couldn't have him.  Couldn't have him.  Can't believe it.  Too late to do anything now.  He said this morning he meant it.  Meant that me and Rose could move in there.  But I don't want to.  Can't be near him day after day and not be close to him.

But I can't be away from him.  Ever.  That would be worse.  Being away from him would be worse than being near him.  I'd worry, never stop worrying.  Too much worry, couldn't cope with it.  Have to know he's safe.  Safe and warm.  Safe and warm in my arms.  I wish.  I wish.  I wish.

Frodo, how would it be to hold you?  To hold you properly.  Without something else being necessary, like me having to carry you in Mordor because you couldn't carry that wretched Ring any more.  Hurts.  Hurts me.  That wasn't holding you properly.  Holding you in my arms, in my lap, feeding you, cherishing you, easing your pain.  Knowing that you wanted me there, wanted me to hold you and comfort you.  Wishing I could reach you.

What has happened?

What is this?  Why are we strangers? 

I hurt.  I hurt so much that I can't cope.  I want to drown.  I want to got to the river and step into it, up to my neck, then further, then further still until I can't feel anymore, can't speak anymore and the pain has gone away.  Perhaps.  Perhaps I should do that.  But no, I can't.  I want you.  I need you.  You're my world, Frodo me dear, my world.  I can't cope.

You smell so nice.

Smells.  Sweet.  Freshly-bathed.  Pure.  Clean.  Fresh and wholesome.  But even after days on end without bathing you still smelled sweet to me.  That's one of the things I most remember from our journey, the way you smelled.  Your skin, your hair, your smell drove me to madness sometimes, like I was intoxicated or something.  It hurt to be near you because I loved you so much.  So near to you yet so distant.  We helped each other.  Your intellect, my common sense.  Made a partnership.  One which was right.  Right like nothing else has ever been before.  I loved it.  Being with you, so close, day after day.  Being chosen as the one to be with you made me feel special.  So very special.

Rose.

Thuds down to earth. 

The pain comes back but this time it's worse.  Much worse.  Never again the closeness.  Never again the chance to lie close to you and watch you sleep.  Not to hold you, to feel you, to embrace you. 

Death.  Death.  Died together in Cirith Ungol.  That's what we should have done.  Died together.  Been together forever.  Shouldn't have gone on.  What about the Ring, if it hadn't been destroyed it wouldn't have mattered.  We could have died and not known anything about it.  Died together, forever.

Excruciating pain.

I feel as though I have no limbs.  No strength to walk back.  His finger.  His precious finger.  Taken.  Destroyed.  No.  No.  No.  Too much pain to bear, his beautiful hand mutilated, hurt, broken.  Can't bear it, can't bear it, it's driving me mad.  Give my own arm instead.  Anything to spare him pain.  Anything.  Anything.  Delicate hands.  Gentle hands.  Hands that were never meant to do the things he had to do.  He was meant to be safe, safe in his study, in his home, here, in the Shire, where nothing could hurt him.

Nothing could hurt him. 

If only.  If only.  If only nothing could hurt him.  Take away his pain.  I want to take away his pain.  But I can't get close to him anymore.  Barrier.  Invisible barrier keeping us apart, keeping us away from each other.  There always, can't penetrate it.  Can't see through it. 

What if .....?

Angry.  Sad.  Hurt.  Feel like life isn't worth living.  The world I've always dreamed of is still there, the secret world, the world in my heart.  The one I go to when I need to be close to him.  The one where he and I are together.  Together.  I can care for him there, in my dreams.  He's real, as real as anything, and he needs me near him all the time.  Can't bear him to be out of my sight, even for a minute, that's how it is there, in that world.  Everything together, everything.  Never apart, like some invisible string joins us together. 

Spinning.  Head is spinning.  Round and round, round and round.  Like it won't stop, like I'm going mad or something. 

Frodo.

Can't get him out of my head.  Can't stop thinking about the way he looked when I left him this morning.  Standing only a few feet away from him yet realising that the distance between us was wider than the whole of Middle-earth.

Can't cope with the pain.  He should be mine.  He should be mine, with me, close to me always.  That's like I wanted it to be, like I imagined.  Like I dreamed in those dreams of mine, that secret world.  Lads aren't supposed to love one another, like, but I can't help it if I like a lad can I?  Can't help it and it's not wrong.  Definitely not wrong.  It's not wrong because I love him and that's a fact.  A fact as plain as the nose on my face.  He's the one for me, always has been and always will be no matter what happens next.  He's mine, my love, my life and my existence.

Frodo.

How much does he hurt?  There's something wrong, I know there is.  But he's not telling, he's just not telling.  Doesn't want me to know but his Sam knows otherwise.  Watching him on our journey, watching him sleep, watching him gasp for air, watching him breathe.  Always there for him then, why can't I be there for him now?  Why doesn't he want me?  Why does he push me aside when I yearn to be at his side?  So much love to give, so much love that it hurts.  It hurts me inside, hurts like I've never hurt before.  Can't believe it hurts so much, want to be with him, want to love him and care for him and I know he wants that too, deep down, but why won't he let me?  Why does his body go so tense when I try to reach out to him?  Why does he turn away from me and not look into my eyes?  So much, so much I don't know, don't understand .....

A fine mess I'm in.  Lass waiting to marry me and I can't even go to her to give her the good news.  Supposed to live at Bag End after we're married.  Live there.  With him.  With him, my Frodo, so alone, so out in the cold, so ..... painful to watch him, so terrible that I can't think straight.  This can't be right, something's got to be done, something's got to be done to help him.

My head hurts.  Laying down on the soft grass, the soft grass of our home, the Shire, the land we saved from tyranny.  From aggression, from menace.  From slavery and who-knows what else.  But I couldn't hurt any more if those orcs had taken us over, honestly I couldn't.  Would have found somewhere safe to take Frodo, somewhere no-one could have ever reached us.  A nice little life together, away from all this, just the two of us.  Him and me, no-one else.  No Rose, no Gaffer, no nobody.

Frodo and me.  Me looking after him, loving him, caring for him.  Never leaving his side, us being together just like I always imagined.  So much love that it hurts.  Love that aches, that widens and deepens with each passing day, love that yawns like a gaping cavern without end. 

Supposed to see Rose.  Supposed to tell her.  Tell her the good news.  But I can't.  Not yet.  Have to be alone for a little while longer.  Must, must be alone. 

A bird singing somewhere.  Wish I was that bird, it sounds happy, not like me.  I'm not happy.  Getting married isn't happy for me.  Isn't right to marry a lass when you don't love her properly, not fair.  Not fair on her, perhaps if I told her that she'd reconsider and say she doesn't want me after all.  Then I'd be free.  Free for him, for Frodo.  Nothing more between us, no bride, no wedding, no nothing.  Just us, just like it was on our journey, when we were together.

I hate this.  I know it's not going to happen, him and me.  The lass wants to marry me, it's expected now.  And he wants me to do it.  He told me so.  He wants me to get married.  To her.  To Rose.  She's pretty, he said, and you'll have fine children, a big family. 

But Frodo ..... why?  Why do you want me to get married?  Why do you push me away so much?  Why won't you let me be near you?  Oh, sometimes I long for the days when we were in Mordor, those terrible, dark days when you let me do things for you, things that you won't let me do now.  It hurts so much to see the distance between us, the chasm, the yawning breach that I can't put right anymore.  It doesn't feel right, that much I know, but I don't know what to do about it.

Be happy, Frodo.  Be happy, dearest love, that I want more than anything else.  So alone, so distant, so impenetrable.  Too much pain for one small hobbit to bear, you shouldn't have to bear it alone.  I want to bear it with you, I want to shoulder the burden and to take the pain away from you.

But I don't know how.

I don't know how.  Kind words, common sense, they don't mean anything now, not now we're home again.  Here, in the Shire, who would have thought that our home could be such a hostile place, that you could feel so out of touch, so alone, so unwanted?

It hurts, Frodo, it hurts.  Loving you hurts.  Loving you will always hurt, that I know, in this life anyway.  Perhaps there's something which awaits us which is better than this.  Perhaps we go on somewhere else after all this is over.  I want that to be, I want it so desperately.

I want that to be.