Sometimes It's Better Not To Know.

Breathless, I ran up the hill after her. Only she knew. The key to unlocking my mystery was near, I must only turn it. So I followed her up.

I reached the apex and found her squatting with her head tucked neatly between her legs. I stopped at her feet, panting and unable to speak.

Inside I was shouting, begging to hear what I so desperately wanted to know, My eyes welled up with tears at my inability to voice my query.

I plunged to my knees, my legs buckling under the weight of my frustration. Pitching onto my back I managed to force a whimper past my lips.

I closed my eyes and counted my breaths. I waited as my heart slowed in my ears. Words began to form in my head instead of primal pleadings.

And as I began to formulate my precise question (it changed in my head every time), doubt began to worm its way in. Did I even want to know?

Would the knowledge change me? Would I be better for it or would it simply initiate another question, a tear mended only by another answer?

I waited to hear her voice wanting her to beckon me to ask. But there was only wind and my heartbeat and silence, no comfort in any of them.

I opened my eyes and squinted against the sun that lay above me. The other lay just above the horizon, threatening to set fire to the ocean.

I sat up and viewed the expanse before me, drinking in its beauty. With a sigh I let it go. I had no need for any homeworld other than this.