The first time I missed my powers... I...
It doesn't matter. He isn't coming back. It was never me that he loved.
My story has no hero. No happy ending. Just… what I remember.
If lay it all out there, if I’m finally honest with myself... maybe I can figure out how I got here.
How I fell so far, and so hard, and how it was basically the same damn thing.
I can't cry. How can you cry over something you always knew to be true? The grief... I can hide it. Behind a smile. That's biting back a scream, with all my might. Anger grants me that little bit of strength. But it’s fragile. And fragile things can be broken. Like me.
These... are my pieces.
I don’t know if you can ever be put back together again after something like that.
But I do know, I’ll never be the same.