A/N: Lol, I find it funny that I get flames now when the story's almost finished. I guess I should have said from the very beginning that all flames shall be poured horse piss on and laughed at like a hyena. Or I could let Sam speak for me, which is pretty much what I'm doing. Eitherway, let the hatefest begin.

Chapter 46: Yo, get me some of that haterade.

This is how it goes, a story is a story until it's not anymore. Words are just words until they start leaping off the page and coming to life before your very eyes. I never did get my happily ever after. Or maybe I did, it's just that he wasn't in it.

A lot of people are going to hate my story, and truthfully a lot of them already do. They've expressed themselves in numerous rude ways. Some of them have thrown insults, asked me to destroy my tale, but that's okay. People are entitled to their own opinions, and I am likewise entitled not to give a fuck. Being in Middle Earth was the best time of my life, even though it may not be what most people deem right or appropriate. I don't set much store by propriety anyway; all I know is that I live life as hard as I can and if you don't agree then you can pretty much just suck it.

Sometimes, when I walk down the street to get a croissant, I think maybe that business man by the corner is Elrond (it's the eyebrows), or that maybe the rowdy bachelors in the apartment above mine are the twins. I don't know for sure; I've never seen them, but I can hear them sometimes, laughter loud and raucous as ever and it helps to alleviate the feeling of missing everyone so much it hurts. I guess I should have known better than to expect a happy ending. I was bound to stay in limbo, missing one place no matter where I stayed. Blast the human condition.

Funny thin though, I don't regret anything. I don't experience any form of debilitating sadness like Tasha expects me to. I got to live the dream, and yes there are moments of intense longing every now and again but that's more than enough of a price to pay for something that no one else could have hoped for.

It's not the life I would have chosen, that's true. But if it were a choice between leaving Arda safe from Carmi's and Art's clutches or staying and seeing them destroy everything I hold dear, I'd choose to leave every single time. I still visit them sometimes, in the ward where they're both not allowed anything sharp. Carmi's always muttering things about darkness and Art barely speaks at all. It's funny but in a messed up way, they're my biggest tie to Arda. The two people who caused all the misery in my life, forever entombed in a casket of white.

My only love sprung from my only hate.

Oh wait, I guess I should take that down, lest the haters accuse me of defacing Shakespeare and being pretentious. I suppose I should listen to them since those most qualified to point out pretentious behavior are those who are excessively pretentious themselves.

Then again, it's only that one line and who says haters have a monopoly on pretension, anyway?

I wish I had more for you. Some well-crafted ending with champagne and fireworks and love songs that tells you all you want to hear, but instead all I have is dark chocolate: bittersweet and a little sinful, but filled with antioxidants that are inevitably good for you. Oh wait, that's bordering on pretentious again, but bear with me here. You see, I love Legolas and I'm pretty sure I always will. It's a stupid, excessive, rollercoaster kind of love that leaves me breathless, but I chose to keep him safe instead, to leave him behind so I could be with my best friend.

She's the girl I gave my heart to when I was six, the girl who held me together when I thought the world was going to tear me apart. You'll always be my best friend, Sam. And I guess, even though I love Legolas a little too much, I'll always love her best. She was in my every hidden thought when I was alone in a strange new world, and she's behind me now as I try to pick up the pieces of the life I left behind. And while that's not a happy ending, it isn't a sad ending either and I guess…that's good enough for me.

A/N: So, okay, I know, I know. I don't have much to say, except that I'm aware this isn't the epitome of literature. That's kind of how it goes when you start something when you're 13. Also, I started this for shits and giggles, and I've been writing it for shits and giggles from the get go. I had fun, and people had fun with me, so you people who are calling this the worst thing you've ever read? You can suck it. Hardcore.

Peace out, bitches. I'll see you around.