It should have been me.
But it wasn't.
I shouldn't have been devastated.
But I was.
After all, what have I done?
I have done nothing.
I have told him nothing.
I have confessed nothing.
I have revealed nothing.
Compared to him, I am nothing.
I am not him.
I am not a young, handsome hero.
I am his shadow.
I am the one that needs saving.
I am the one that nags.
I am the one that scolds.
I am the one that holds him back.
I am the coward who replaced every loving thought with an impersonal Jedi lesson.
The only thing I am is selfish.
Selfish for thinking he could be mine.
Selfish for entertaining the idea he would give up everything for an old, broken man.
Selfish for wishing that I stand in her place.
She can give you so much.
I can never give you anything.
You are the Chosen One.
You have more talent and Force connections than I.
I can only vainly try to teach you the ways of the Jedi. Of peace, of forgiveness, of patience.
But you are set in your ways.
I cannot change you.
I do not want to change you.
You are Anakin Skywalker.
You are the man I foolishly love.
You are perfect.
I can only give you one thing.
I give you my consent as a Master.
If you love her, if she gives you the happiness I cannot, then I will not interfere.
I will say nothing.
I will overlook you sneaking out to see her.
I will not tell the Council.
I will silently shield you.
I will relish the few moments you and I have together, merely as friends.
You will never know I crave more.
She has you.
You have her.
I have my shattered dreams.
My torn fantasies.
I am alone.