I feel like Aragorn, at the moment in the first LOTR movie when he kneels before Frodo and says in that heartbreaking whisper, "I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor."
At least, in my head I feel like I keep saying that over, and over. It might be similar. Frodo replies, "I know." Because you know Aragorn would have gone, but his place was elsewhere. And Frodo knows that Aragorn's place is elsewhere, and that is why he lets Strider go, as it were. (And, as a proclaimed Tolkien nerd, you might be wondering why I'm referencing the movie, and the answer is: because in my head I'm kind of like Viggo Mortensen, but a girl--a badass girl with weapons galore and a five o'clock shadow...no, too far. No beard.)
Break-ups usually leave me feeling the pangs of Aragorn's dilemma, as I think of it. Not because my relationships are always worthy of a Fellowship, but because I don't know what to do when the relationship is over. In a way, we fought battles together, overcame "Boromirs", of a sort, and kept the Ring secret and safe, or something, and now it's time for me to ride off and find a new kingdom and bring the armies of Middle Earth together in a final battle--what was I talking about? Oh, hobbits.
I don't have any hobbits to save. Maybe, if I did, I would stop reaching for my cell phone to text Frodo about some mundane activity I did that no one in their right mind would want to know about that, for some reason, people in relationships live to know about.
I suppose no one is taking the hobbits to Isengard...? No? Fine, but I'll look into some warrior classes, just in case...
