Swiftcurrent Creek We could dance our tears away, emancipate ourselves

Reverie was coming to her own realization:
As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, Lestan leaving had broken her in a way that no other tragedy in her life had managed to accomplish. Through fire and death, through so much torment at the hands of those who had brought her into this world, Reverie had always come out on the other side ready to pick herself up and dust herself off with a smile ready for the world. But not this time. Not now.
Now she was just so tired. Lestan promised he wouldn't leave, you know, Reverie said a little dully, after a long silence. She didn't often speak of Lestan like this, not in such intimate detail; more often she preferred to keep the specifics of their relationship private, even when she spoke of him to others. He made so many promises. I never asked for any of them, and I tried not to count on them too much, but I thought -
She let out a breath. I just thought he would have told me, if he was having doubts. But he hadn't, not once; she remembered vividly each time he had told her the exact opposite, that he wanted her, wanted this. Reverie had tried so hard to believe it. Now she was glad that she hadn't. She didn't know that she would have made it through this loss, if she had truly believed he meant what he said.