A/N:  Welcome to Part Three of The Measure of Love, the love story of Frodo and Sam, this time focusing on their time physically apart after Frodo departs for the West, containing all the usual - no slash, lots of angst in the beginning and lots of love throughout.  The love story of Frodo and his Creator continues as well. This may be slower in coming that the other sections and will, I anticipate, be much shorter but one never knows with the muse, does one? :).  The first few chapters are going to be very angsty as one would except when you leave half of your heart and soul behind so they may beyond a 'G' rating, but the majority of it will be 'G' I think.  You don't need to have read the first two parts to follow this as it can stand on its own.  I hope you will enjoy!

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Chapter One: Looking East, Looking West

My dearest Sam, you said you wanted to know everything that happened me while we were apart. Do you truly? Yes, I know you do. But do I want to tell you? Do I want you to know that I have not yet healed, that I am beginning to despair of ever healing? Do I want you to know that I cried myself to sleep each night I was on the boat and the few I have spent here, that I have woken up each morning with less hope and more fear that I have made the most terrible mistake and that I should have never left you and Merry and Pippin and the Shire?

I so long to return to you all, to Rose and Elanor and Frodo-lad, but I know that is impossible. I can not return. I felt I had to leave, but now that is my biggest regret, I who am crushed by regrets. Still I must go on. I must hope because I have nothing but despair left if I do not. It claws at me day and night and I am so tired of fighting it, but I continue to do so in the hope that you will come. You must. And I must be healthy when you do. I will not hurt you anymore by not being healed.

And I know it’s much too early to despair. I’ve only been here eight days, but it’s so different. I hope one day it will be wonderful, I sense that is coming, but right now, it’s too much. I am writing this on the beach that I saw when I first came here, the one place that is closest to you and my cousins and my king and practically all I’ve ever known. I sit here and stare out over the water, to the east and think of you and think of you and think of you. I wonder how you and Merry and Pippin are doing, what you are doing, what Elanor is doing, how Rosie is doing with your second bairn growing within. I have spent practically every moment here. Bilbo is already threatening to rent out my room to someone else. He jokes but he is worried about me.

I know I was ill the day after I left. I remember nothing of it, but I know it was bad. Just looking into Bilbo’s eyes is enough to know that I have broken his heart once more as much as it has broken mine that I am still so shattered that the illnesses follow me even here. Even Gandalf’s eyes are more sorrowful than I have ever seen them. That an entire day passed when we were moving further and further away from you and my cousins and everyone and I wasn’t even aware of it hurts so much. When it was already the 7^th, I stayed on deck for hours, looking back east as I stay everyday now at the beach, looking back. When are you coming, my dear Sam? I don’t know how much more I can stand not having you here. I feel like I’m only breathing with one lung, beating with only half a heart. I felt this destroyed when my parents died. But in time that torment stilled and I have to hope I won’t always miss you this much because I think I will go mad otherwise. I’m as torn apart as I ever was but instead of a Ring doing it, I’m in one place when I long with my entire mind, heart, body and soul to be in another. To be back in my own home, in my own bed, surrounded by my books, your garden, to be laughing at Pippin’s jokes and sharing a mug with Merry and to be with you, my Sam, enveloped in your arms and your love never to leave again. Come soon, my brother. Please.

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Hullo, my Frodo dear. How are you? Oh now, isn’t that a ninnyish way of starting out? I feel like crossing it out and starting over again, but neither you or Mr. Bilbo have any mistakes in your part of the story and I don’t want mine to be the first to mar this marvelous book of yours. You can tell though as plain as plain that I don’t have the way with words you two did. But you said to write what was in my heart and that is you, my dear. I spend part of each day looking out west. I don’t even know how long I do, sometimes I think it’s for hours. I worry about you so much. Not an hour, let a day, goes by that I don’t wonder how you are doing, whether you are getting better, whether you are warm enough and get enough sleep and eat enough. That you are being well taken care of, I have no doubt, but still it’s that hard that I’m not there to do it myself. I don’t know how I stood it to be not beside you on the 6^th. You were ill again, weren’t you? Or was being among the Elves enough to keep the darkness away? I don’t know and I so fear you did take another turn and I wasn’t there to help you through it. Of course, Mr. Gandalf and Mr. Bilbo and Elves a-plenty were so you certainly didn’t lack for help, but to be without your Sam!

And your Sam to be without his Frodo. I miss you something fierce, dear. You said I shouldn’t always be torn in two, but I still am. You have always held half of my heart just as Rose has held the other. How am I supposed to live with only half a heart now that you are gone? But I will. I don’t blame you at all for leaving. My heart twisted, broke and shattered when you left and I know yours did too. I know it had been breaking for a long time before that and you chose to leave, not because you wanted to, but because you had to. My heart had broke right along with yours and it is still that shattered but I know one day it will heal. You taught me that when my mum died and I didn’t think I would ever be happy or even be able to breathe right again. My heart will be fuller with all the children and joy you foresaw for me. Mr. Merry said you haven’t really left us, that you are still here in so many ways. When I’m stronger I am going to start looking for you here and I know I will find you.

You are getting better, aren’t you? It would break my heart even more if you weren’t, that your last, desperate hope betrayed you. I’ve read your book and I cried that hard to see how desperate you really were. I know it’s not my fault for lack of trying to help you, to carry all I could of your terrible pain, but still I wonder what more I could have done. I marvel at you were able to bear it, then I realize you left because you couldn’t. And no one and nothing could help you in Middle-earth, no matter how much we loved you and wanted to help you.

It’s only a few days since I got back from the Havens so I’m still in shock, as I suppose you would call it. Rosie has been so wonderful, so understanding. She is the most perfect, loving, caring, gentle hobbit who has ever lived. Just as you are, my dear. She has been just as much a blessing to my life as you have and I have still no idea what I have done to deserve either you.

I so hope you are happy where you went. I wonder a lot about what it’s like there and I am so anxious to see it for myself, but you’re right, my life is here right now and as much as I want to be with you, I also want to be with my Rose and see our children grow up.

Wait for me, though, dear. I will come.

Good night now and sleep well. I love you. Since I can’t kiss you goodnight, I will kiss this page and hope you can somehow still feel it. Call me a ninnyhammer if you’d like for doing something so silly. I would love to be called anything if only I could hear your voice again.