Silence.
After so long with nothing, I found something... and now he is gone again.
He has been silent for so long. I call his name, over and over, hoping for something, anything... and he no longer talks to me. He is there, I just know it... and he cannot speak to me.
I know he wants to. I also know he can’t. Why can’t he? That, I don’t have an answer to.
It has been... centuries, I think, since I last heard him speak to me. I can’t even see him in my dreams. It is as if a blindfold has been tied around my mind’s eye; I see nothing, I hear nothing, and I feel nothing. I must find a way to remove it if I have any hope of speaking to Bloomberg again.
The knowledge that I’d finally found him, then the subsequent knowledge that he was gone... is just too much to bear, at times. I feel like I’m going to shatter under this strain.
I need you, Bloomberg.
Sometimes, when I wait, there is no dream to offer me some small amount of comfort until the next time I wake; there is only pain and misery. This is one of them.
The nightmare begins swiftly, without reservation or remorse. I am there, next to Bloomberg, as he stands proudly upon his hilltop.
He is not himself, however—his leaves are wilted and brown, his bark a dusky gray, and the ground around him sapped of life. His branches litter the earth, their tiny skeletons piled atop one another, carelessly shed by my lover.
I call his name. Bloomberg!
He doesn’t answer me. He simply continues gazing into the distance, his preoccupied mind oblivious to my plight.
I call his name again. Bloomberg!
Still, there is nothing.
Bloomberg... please don’t leave me alone. I can’t be alone again. I need you.
Still, there is nothing but silence.
Bloomberg... I love you.
And I love you, Tom.
Just as suddenly, the illusion around me shatters. I see him standing tall, still healthy, still strong... perhaps a little weaker than before, but the same Bloomberg I know and love.
I was terrified... but I know he is here. I know I have never had reason to fear, yet I worried incessantly for him up until this moment. I must have more faith in Bloomberg.
He will speak to me when the time is right.
I become aware abruptly. I am being called by a voice.
Tom... come to me.
Bloomberg?
Come to me.
There is a rumbling from the ground, and a crack splits the earth below me, rolling me away from where I sat for many long years. I am moving.
Will I ever see Bloomberg myself?
I love him. Love always finds a way.