They have come again. The dreams. But the dreams of everlasting night and the heavy air of the Black Land full of poisonous fumes are not the ones that are haunting me now. They’re the dreams that show glimpses of my life before the Ring. They show me how life could have been had I not gone on that journey to destroy It. In these dreams, I revisit my happy life with Bilbo, visits with my dear cousins, days in the garden with Sam, carefree romps through my beloved Shire. They show me everything I enjoyed before I was touched by the shadow. These dreams are worse than the dark ones of terror. They mock me, showing me the happiness, security and contentment that are withheld from me during my waking hours. They show me what can never be again.

            I have dared to imagine what could have happened had the Ring never existed and sent me on my Quest into darkness. My life would have continued contentedly in Bag End. I would still go on long, several-day hikes throughout the Shire. I would laugh and joke unconcernedly with my friends while having a mug of ale at the Green Dragon. I would invite visitors to my hole every week. I might have even dared to find a nice lass and settle down.

            But perhaps it wasn’t the Ring itself that is to blame for my fate. Maybe luck wasn’t with me enough. Or the Valar weren’t kind enough. Or I wasn’t strong enough.

            Yes, it was my failure that caused my existence to become such a constant torture. Nothing else is to blame for my pain but my own weakness. I couldn’t contain my desire for the Ring and I ultimately claimed it for my own. Then it was lost forever, with no chance at all of coming back. And that loss has caused a dark and painful emptiness in my soul that can never be filled. It is an agonizing and gaping wound that will never truly heal. And I know that I have done it to myself.

             But though I now bear a wound that can never be healed, Middle Earth does no longer. The reign of terror brought by Sauron and the Ring has ended and life in Middle Earth is promising and hopeful once more. Hurts caused by the scum of Mordor are being mended and the evil done to our beloved Shire has been almost entirely washed away, mostly thanks to my dear friends. Merry, Pippin…and Sam.

            Oh, Sam, I know you still have hope. I see it shining in your eyes whenever you see me reading on the garden bench, or when I accompany you to the Green Dragon in the evening…whenever you see me doing things I once enjoyed. I had hope once, too. But it has long gone. I’ve now seen that my life can never be as it was. As each day passes, I fade a little more. I don’t have the strength to continue. I’m ready to give up. I want to leave, to go someplace where I can find healing peace. But you will not give up. You will never give up, Sam. You don’t yet realize that some hurts just never heal. You don’t understand that for me, things cannot be as they once were. But you will, one day. You will have to discover it on your own. I cannot hurt you with this knowledge…not when you yourself are just beginning to heal.

            And so I’ll continue reading on the garden bench, and pretend to thoroughly enjoy my days in the sunshine. The sun is growing too bright, almost to the point of blinding me. I used to love the sun, but I don’t anymore. Soon I will have to retreat into the dark and shady study during the day. I need to put the finishing touches on the Red Book…I’m almost out of time.

            But I’ll stay a while longer. I won’t be able bear to see the utter disappointment in your eyes, and the crushed expression on your face when you realize that I have lost all hope. I can’t let you know that I have no chance to recover from the shadow. Not yet. I will remain as long as I can in this bright and happy Middle Earth. I will try to truly enjoy the bright sunlight on my face, even as I am slowly fading from the pain that I endure daily.

            But a wraith cannot last long in the sun.