Fairspell Meadow See and Wait

sorrow is something universal, and even the butterflies know of its significance. one day, Pancakes had found herself crying tears and tears when she found out about luna moths, how they live so short and come to find love and make a family and then -- just up and die. a tragically short life, but one meant to be fulfilled so easily and quickly that many days are not needed!

Pancakes may even find herself crying today if she continues to listen to this blue boy, and her wings that once always sought attention are quiet. a butterfly may be scatterbrained, surely, but no idiot to the pain of others and themselves. she listens to him carefully.

"you feel different..." a small echo of what she hears, for she must think a moment.

"we gather medicine for heartache,
so we can act a fool."
(she has always been told that love makes you do stupid things)

"we feel it move through our skin,
it's a sickness, a manic weakness!"
(oh Pancakes, you're getting a little intense here baby)

"but," a long drawl to fix what she said before, "it's incomplete without you."

the whole dance of love is a ballroom waltz. for some, it begins as a samba, a tango perhaps! something with flair and excitement! and then we settle, into something more relaxed and graceful. and dancing with a partner is perhaps the only way in such a setting. for through all the pain that love brings, we are complete in our own sewn soul, but constantly tempted to bring in what we feel we lack.

love is complete within ourselves. but in a search for others, it often remains empty.

apologizing in advance for pancakes' not-so-helpful advice BAHA