It's beautiful out as I walk across Hyrule Field with all of my belongings in my pack. Well, not all of them. I left all of my furniture and all the things I don't need or care about. Saria was sad to see me go, but she understood why I had to leave.

Things are normal, but not normal. The first thing I realized when I woke up was that it wasn't raining. Then I realized that I wasn't even outside; I was lying on my bed, and sunlight was pouring into my window. I was ten years old again, and that morning would have been the morning that Navi came to visit me for the first time.

She's not there, though. I rush to the Great Deku Tree, but when I ask him where Navi is, he admits to me that he doesn't know of a fairy named Navi. I keep asking him, over and over again, but eventually he just asks me if I was feeling well. It just wasn't fair; I lost Malon, and now I've lost Navi, too?

When I stopped by Saria's house, she didn't ask me why I looked so upset. I was surprised when she sat me down and made me tea. But then she revealed to me that all of the Sages, even seven years back into the past, remember the future that I found myself in. She refers to it as the alternate timeline. Apparently, Zelda and I remember it, too, and of course Ganondorf, who's still floating around in the Sacred Realm. No one else does, though, it seems.

Saria listened as I told her about Malon. I talked for hours, it seems, and when I finished, I felt empty, as if every emotion I've ever felt, good or bad, had been poured out of me. She coaxed me to sip my tea, but after Mido came by that afternoon to heckle me, I realized that the forest might have been my home when I was truly ten years old, but not anymore.

That was yesterday. I only said goodbye to Saria this morning, but not to anyone else. If they care, that's okay. I'll visit sometime. But I need to leave.

I'm not ten anymore. I'm much too old for this tiny, weak body, the body of someone who hasn't seen the things I've seen, or felt the things I've felt. I'm limited in so many ways by a body of someone who shouldn't need to climb onto a large horse, wield a long sword, and engage in battle with something twice my size. People are going to be asking me where my parents are, or telling me that I'm too young to be out so late. No one is going to take me seriously.

No one is going to realize that I know the things I know, that I've felt the things I've felt. I've risked my life every day. I've used weapons people have never heard of. I've fallen in love, almost died, had sex, killed someone, had one friend die for me, and another one disappear like the light breeze that tickles your cheek when you're trying to concentrate on something.

Finally, late in the afternoon, I arrive at Lon Lon Ranch. I slowly walk down the worn track between the house and barn, remembering it and seeing it for the first time. It's beautiful.

Talon steps out of the barn and spots me. "Hello there, young fella!" he calls out to me. "Are you here to buy somethin' for your parents?"

I shake my head. "I'm here to work," I say. "I don't have parents. Can I be a farm boy here?" I have to make an effort to sound younger than I am—I mean, my age. I want to talk to Talon as an adult, as an equal. Well, if I were talking to him as his daughter's beau, I doubt I'd be able be an equal. This stupid timeline thing makes everything so hard to explain.

A few minutes later, after a short discussion, Talon realizes that I'm quite serious. He seems surprised that a ten-year-old would want to settle down on a ranch and do farm work all day long. "It's pretty boring, kid. Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yes, sir," I tell him.

He has Ingo start bringing a mattress up to the loft, where I'll be sleeping. Maybe if I stay here long enough, Talon will have a room built for me. Or maybe he'll let me sleep in Malon's room. Okay, so maybe that's a stretch.

When I'm all settled in, Talon sends me out for my first job of the day, which is to help his daughter brush the horses. That way, he says, we can have some time to get to know each other.

Oh, how I've known her before. And there she is, her tiny, ten-year-old self, brushing a miniature Epona, who I know won't like me much, at least at first. I do know, though, that I won't have my old "fairy boy" nickname anymore, since Navi's gone.

Malon turns around, slightly confused. "Hi," she says brightly. "I'm Malon. Who are you?"

"Uh, I'm Link," I say. "I'm going to work here now," I tell her. It's eerie to see the look on her face as she takes me in for the first time. You're not supposed to be able to meet someone twice. But here we are, and her eyes look over me as if I'm some clean, whole, new person. I'm not, and she has no idea.

She seems pretty excited to have a new friend, and as she shows me how to brush the horses, I feel suddenly sad. All those things I want to tell her, that I love her, that I miss her, that I'm grateful that she gave me a chance to live and defeat Ganondorf. I want to tell her that I'm sorry for putting her in danger, that Zelda admitted that she was wrong, and that Navi is gone and I don't know why. I want to tell her that she's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and that all I want is to live here on the ranch with her, grow up with her, and love her the way I loved her before.

But she's ten, and none of this means anything to her. She has no idea that without her, I wouldn't have managed to do what I had to do. If she hadn't pushed me, or pushed me out of the way, nothing would have gotten done, although now that it's seven years ago, all over again, it feels as if none of it was worth it.

Was it? I guess it has to be.

It's so hard to talk to her, to look at her. I don't know how to behave around her anymore. Just like … seven years "ago?" What do you even call it when you wake up seven years in the future, and a few months later, you wake up back where you were? There has to be some sort of term for that.

I know it's going to be hard. I'm going to have to pretend that I'm ten, even though I know that I'm seventeen. I'm going to have to pretend that I don't know Malon, that I don't love her. I have to wake up in the morning and forget that I've just dreamt about her, as her seventeen-year-old self.

This isn't exactly what I wanted when I thought about going back to the ranch with Malon, living together. That was us at seventeen, in love, a couple, with a strong friendship to back it up. Instead, she sees me as a stranger, some boy working on her father's ranch. I keep telling myself that it's worth it, just to be with her again, but I wonder if it's true or not. I hope it's true because this is the only real home I've ever had.

I have to try to appreciate what I have. Yes, I can acknowledge and mourn what I've lost. I've lost my childhood, my innocence, my ignorance. I mean, just because things will probably be okay doesn't mean that you can't grieve; you don't have to deny that what you've lost was that special, that unique, that important. But at the same time, by going back in time, I've given Malon her life back, just like I wanted to. Now, she can keep her own childhood and innocence. She won't become another victim in a meaningless war, she won't have to lose her ranch, and she won't have to be torn away from her family. I remember how much I wished I could give this to her, even though I loved having her with me. Now, I've made that sacrifice that I always thought about making. Malon sacrificed her life for me. Now, I'm giving it back to her in the only way I can.

And I'm here with her, aren't I? It's true that maybe something will turn out differently. Maybe we'll just be friends. Maybe we'll be lovers, but break up. Maybe one of us will die in a freak horse-riding accident, or maybe we'll fall in love with other people. Perhaps I'll have to leave the ranch for some reason. But for now, this is the best I can have, and it's far better than having her lie dead in my arms. Now, she laughs at me from across the corral, not knowing how much I care about her, how much I want to kiss her, even though we're ten.

Malon, when we turn seventeen, that's when I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything. Until then, I'll keep on pretending that I haven't gone through hell and back, that I haven't lost you once before.

It's going to be a long seven years.

---

Well, this story has taken me about two years to finish, although I didn't update for a year, and in the grand tradition of Just a Farm Girl, I am updating on the last day of the year. Many things have changed in my life as I've written this story, and I find it interesting to see that my writing has changed along with me. I'm not sure what my next story is going to be like, even though I've been trying, like, a zillion different story-lines. Eesh.

I originally thought that my next story might be a sequel to this one, from Malon's point of view, that incorporated more over-used story-lines. However, I think I need something fresh. Push has ended, I think, and Link's comments ring true; we don't know what will happen, and you just have to decide for yourself. And by "we," I mean me, too. I like leaving stories open-ended, and I refuse to ruin such an ending by being like Lois Lowry when she wrote Gathering Blue (the ending to The Giver was perfect, and I will never forgive you for answering the unanswered question you gave us at the end!).

It's harder for me to leave this story than it was to leave Farm Girl. I wish I knew why. Maybe it's because it's been with me for longer, even though it's not as popular. Maybe because I think it worked out very well. Or maybe it's because I could share Link's feelings of loss and grief. But either way, tomorrow is a new year, with new possibilities, and new stories floating around, waiting for me to snatch them out of the air and tell them as best I can.