The wind's been knocked out of me. The old crone chuckles, saying she told me so. You'll be back my dear, and you'll be needing my medicine. I swear I thought it was something special. I swear I fell right into love. The old crone told me to chill. Not to call. Not to take leaps of faith. I wanted to spend every minute with you, cuddling, kissing, coddling, making love, making plans. I will never understand why you didn't call, why you left without saying goodbye. I know I will try to rack my brains to figure out what I did wrong. I know I will tell myself to keep loving you, because there's a chance that we meet when you come back. I know I will blame myself in the end, and wait, hope, its just 2 months more. But the crone tells me that my heart will break again. She tells me to move on, bury myself in a book, channel my emotions into something concrete. I want to sing about love like the little mermaid, give up everything and be a fool, go far away, just to be abandoned. I want to be tender, you softened me, but I have have to harden myself, says the crone. Tough times.
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