I thought she had died.

I grieved her departure and sank into my mossy loss. I felt how her absence fertilized the fecund ground. But when I returned to the place where I first met her, the spaceless depths of heartbreak, there she was! “You are not enough,” she whispered to me. I was struck by her return but I could not be angry at her words. It was so sad seeing her pitiful, frail shape. This time I knew enough to not believe her.

What could I have done differently? You are sweet, I said, and held her hands, but you do not understand. Stay here if you need, and I will love you as I always should have. I sat down and felt my body melt into hers. How foolish I was to think she would leave forever. How naive she was to think I had not changed in her absence. I am so lucky to have known such a delicate creature. Only the softest substances can wriggle through our walls.