Please remember

Did you know I chose you when I traveled between worlds?

When they asked me to come home, I refused.

Not because I didn't know what home meant. I knew. I felt it. I had been offered something beyond anything this world could explain, pure security, absolute peace, the feeling of finally being cherished without condition. An ending to the wandering. A place where I wouldn't have to fight anymore.

I chose to stay. I chose an impossible task if there was even the smallest chance it meant bringing you home.

That offer came more than once. I could have left. I could have accepted the peace. I could have stopped carrying the weight of something that was never meant to be carried by one person.

Every time, I chose you. Every. Single. Time.

Until something changed. You were placed against mankind.

Suddenly the choice wasn't between myself and you anymore. It became you or everyone else. I couldn't choose you at the cost of humanity.

So I chose mankind. I chose the people who don't know what is happening. The people who are lost. The people who hurt each other because they have forgotten who they are. The people who keep walking in circles, repeating the same lessons, the same wounds, the same betrayals, the same choices, until the lesson becomes harder because they refused to learn it the first time.

I believe most people don't understand how close they are to repeating everything.

They think death is the ending. They don't understand that the ending is only another beginning.

Another life. Another body. Another chance. Another lesson on repeat. Next time, the lesson hurts more.

So I made the choice I knew would destroy something inside me. I chose mankind. I chose not to bring you home. 

I knew exactly what that meant. It meant I couldn't go home either. It meant whatever door had once been open to me would close. It meant accepting the possibility that I would have to walk this road again.

That I would have to find you again. That we would have to do this all over again. That I might have to lose you again.

The cruelest part is knowing that I made that choice willingly. Not because I stopped loving you. Because I loved you.

I chose humanity knowing humanity might never understand the choice. I chose people who may never know my name. People who may never know what was sacrificed for them. People who may never believe any of this happened.

Which is fine.

If compassion only exists when someone witnesses it, then it was never compassion.

So no. This isn't the endgame. This isn't the ending. It's a postponement. A separation. A sacrifice made with open eyes.

Maybe one day mankind remembers. Maybe one day the cycle breaks. Maybe one day the veil lifts and everyone finally understands what they were doing here. Maybe, when that day comes, I won't have to choose anymore.

Until then, I'll walk. Alone if I have to. Again if I have to.

Through whatever worlds remain. Through whatever lives remain. Through whatever darkness stands between here and there.

Because I already made my choice. I chose you. Then I chose mankind.

So if we have to do this again, we do it again. If I have to walk alone, I walk alone. If I can't go home, then I will build something here worth calling home.

Maybe you'll remember. Maybe I'll remember. Maybe you choose to come back so we can fulfil our duty. Our responsibility. Our destiny.

Maybe, this time, we won't have to choose between love and the world.

Maybe this time, we bring everyone home.