rodneyscat

When Elijah pointed at me and said, "yes?" at the screening on that Saturday night at Collectormania4 (you were at the other one, remember?), and I didn't believe he meant me and he had to repeat it - "yes, lady in the 4th row" - I could have wept. Cos he saw me. Of course, what he saw was my two beautiful daughters bouncing on either side of me to grab his attention; but, for a split second, he *saw* me. And I spoke to him and he *heard* me, and he looked straight at me and he replied to what I said. Yet 0.69 seconds later he had forgotten I existed. Until my daughter A reminded him the next day, of course.

I love him. I was thinking about it on the train from Manchester, having said a reluctant goodbye to the wondrous finduilas_clln, and I tried to tell myself it was time to grow up, time to let it go. I am easily old enough to be his mother, it's ridiculous. But here I sit, with the exquisite drawing Fin made for me of Elijah and I could cry from loving him. I will never meet him again, most likely, and if I did all he would see would be this silly old lady with pining eyes. Yet knowing it's pathetic, knowing it's wrong on so many levels, knowing all that doesn't change a thing. Elijah fills an empty space and I don't really want to have to go through my life as it is right now, with a void. So he's there. Not just because he's the most beautiful man on the planet, not just because he's Frodo; because he's also funny and talented and god damnit, he's *interesting*. He interests me, anyway. Greatly. *hugs*