I found you in the bottom of my pack journal. I almost cannot believe that I still have you in all honesty. I have read your contents and am struggling with some of your contents. Did I really write these things? I have no memory of many of the events here in, which is distressing. I suppose that is the purpose of all this, writing in here. Recording my history to be relived later in life. Things that happen which may not seem like much can be so much more over the course of time.

The fact is that things are happening. The pang of loss when people no longer wake in our lands is terrible. These last days since I have awakened, so many dear old friends have come to me. They speak of welcome and happiness in my return, and we always speak of those who have not awakened as yet. Indeed in your pages named and not named friends leap off your pages to accuse me of not being there when they needed me. Leaving perhaps because of the hopelessness of people sleeping and not waking. Am I one of those people? Could my words of hope and encouragement, love, have helped these people to have the courage to remain with us and fight on?