Swiftcurrent Creek Let me go, I wanna die in the disco

Moss got the impression that what Reverie was telling her right now was a dark secret, possibly the thing that kept her awake at night and stole away her apatite. It was the sort of truth that was an endless pit that demanded to be fed continuously with doubt, regret and worries. Reverie feared loving because she knew that love inevitably led to loss. She sensed the woman feared attachment, likely because others had left her. 

It felt important to reassure Reverie that she had no plans of leaving. "I'm here," she confirmed with a nod. She thought for a moment, not knowing if she would have the advice that Reverie sought, and certainly not without some context. 

"I loved someone, once. In spite of myself. My sister found her, wounded, and tended to her. We had almost one full year together. But when Spring came," She inhaled, and exhaled softly. Her great head shook from side to side, slowly. "She snapped. She tried to kill me, and my sister intervened. I lost both of them that day." She remembered the day vividly; the way the icicles had dripped water from the mouth of the cave. She remembered the anticipation of Spring's arrival- only to be met with the brutality of motherly instinct, spurred on by hunger and starvation. She carried the shame of having loved some who had become fully willing to kill the both of them, when the snow melted and the days became longer, and the guilt of having cost her sister her life. 

"I have nothing else, but I must continue to be. I commit to myself; that's all I can do, for now."