Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A Belated Goodbye to Camelot

Actually it's a belated goodbye to "Gwen"-- not that it should matter to her. There were still some things left unsaid when I was, all of a sudden, unreachable. I'll say them now.

You have "Arthur" and I'm no longer the kind of guy who'll put himself in between two people who care very much for each other. Having a wife stolen out from under me  does not do wonders for the ego, and I had no desire to put you and Arthur through that ordeal. I have no stomach to dish out the kind of testing-by-fire that God seems to mete so callously and haphazardly.

Perhaps I... should have endeavored to meet you a year ago, but I was obviously preoccupied. I would not have known you for the wondrous, terribly sweet and caring person that you are.

At any rate, having known you now, I would have followed you anywhere, Arthur or no Arthur. And I did, all the way to Camelot, where I served as one of your mercenaries of literacy. For a time, I was probably your best knight.

Here's a tip about myself: it's generally not money that keeps me tethered to someone's employ. I've been known to throw my life away on a fool's quest because I cherished the feeling I got when someone smiled at me. I've been known to spend long hours in the field because someone's kerchief was tied to my shoulder.

It's who I am.

It is also who I'm not appreciated for. Nobody really likes a man whose eyes follow and drink your every movement down to the very dregs. Nobody really adores the people who adore them.

I've gotten much older than I've had to be in this department, Gwen. I no longer have the staying power to remain fool-hardy.You obviously can't give me what I need  and it upsets me that I feel you've shut me out before I ever got the chance to ask. I would have been happy with simple talk: you always made a four-letter word fall sweetly on the ears.

There was no more reason for me to stay on in Camelot, was no other logical course of action available but to wish you all well, to pack up my Lance and leave.

If I'd a dollar for all the times I've had to say this I'd be rich:

I wish you every happiness. I wish you and Arthur every joy.  

I say it ruefully, but I truly mean it.

No comments: