I waited. I waited for something that I desperately wanted, but deep in my
heart, knew that it wouldn't happen. That is, if I still had a heart.
And I waited for them to come, waited for them to come and apologize, to come and beg my forgiveness. But, I waited in vain, for they never came. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
And so, I lie here, on my deathbed, waiting for something that will never come.
I'm dying, and I have no friends to comfort me. No soothing words to usher me smoothly over the threshold of two words, no cool kiss upon this fevered forehead, no anybody, no nothing. I suppose I deserve it, but it wasn't my entire fault. It really wasn't.
If he hadn't...if she had just...if I had...there are so many ifs. I wonder where I would be now, if some of those ifs had happened. Would I be dying, lonely, and depressed?
No, I don't think so.
How did I become like this? When along that long road did I lose everything that really mattered?
When did I lose her?
I lost her when he stepped in. I lost her when Godric came into the picture as more than just a friend.
But really, how could you compare?
I was never brave. I was never a Godric, I was never the one to win her heart through great deeds. If anything, the way I sough her was by the most of childish means indeed. But I did have her, if only for a little while, before Godric got her. Godric was always the one to save the damsel in distress; I would be the one to antagonize them.
I lost her to him, and everything else. I don't even know if they're even alive anymore.
I don't even know if I care. No, that's not true. I do care, I care very much, because if I didn't, then I wouldn't be lying here, musing about old friends, old loves, and old enemies, not here, not now, not in my last hours.
But what better do I have to do?
So, here in the end, I find out, that you always somehow go back, go back to the beginning, go back to what was really important, go back to what you've neglected, what you've lost, and what you've loved.
You always go back.
And I, the great Salazar Slytherin, one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts, have learned that the hard way.
Because I am dying, dying here, dying now, with no friends to ease my passage, no amazing love's hand in mine, no anything.
And there's nothing I can do to change that.
And I waited for them to come, waited for them to come and apologize, to come and beg my forgiveness. But, I waited in vain, for they never came. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
And so, I lie here, on my deathbed, waiting for something that will never come.
I'm dying, and I have no friends to comfort me. No soothing words to usher me smoothly over the threshold of two words, no cool kiss upon this fevered forehead, no anybody, no nothing. I suppose I deserve it, but it wasn't my entire fault. It really wasn't.
If he hadn't...if she had just...if I had...there are so many ifs. I wonder where I would be now, if some of those ifs had happened. Would I be dying, lonely, and depressed?
No, I don't think so.
How did I become like this? When along that long road did I lose everything that really mattered?
When did I lose her?
I lost her when he stepped in. I lost her when Godric came into the picture as more than just a friend.
But really, how could you compare?
I was never brave. I was never a Godric, I was never the one to win her heart through great deeds. If anything, the way I sough her was by the most of childish means indeed. But I did have her, if only for a little while, before Godric got her. Godric was always the one to save the damsel in distress; I would be the one to antagonize them.
I lost her to him, and everything else. I don't even know if they're even alive anymore.
I don't even know if I care. No, that's not true. I do care, I care very much, because if I didn't, then I wouldn't be lying here, musing about old friends, old loves, and old enemies, not here, not now, not in my last hours.
But what better do I have to do?
So, here in the end, I find out, that you always somehow go back, go back to the beginning, go back to what was really important, go back to what you've neglected, what you've lost, and what you've loved.
You always go back.
And I, the great Salazar Slytherin, one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts, have learned that the hard way.
Because I am dying, dying here, dying now, with no friends to ease my passage, no amazing love's hand in mine, no anything.
And there's nothing I can do to change that.