Lone Star Mountain you fracture light again

Returning the light touch as the girl rested at her side, she contemplated what the other had spoken, from the admission of her what-ifs to the questioning of when her own well of tears had emptied. In truth, it had not, not fully and possibly never will. Not only does she grieve the loss of her family, but also the loss of her youth, her innocence. The latter was too fresh and had refilled the cup to spill in the darkest moments of solitude.

But, she would not reveal that to her sweet companion; her want to heal what was broken too strong to dampen the hope that one day the girl would feel better someday. So, she lied, giving a half-truth that maybe someday would actually come true. 

“I cannot give you a timeline of when your cup may empty. We are all like the snowflakes out there—our lives are all different, our journeys will never mirror another beings’. It took me well over a year to feel whole again. I have Reverie to thank for that—she found me, just over a year since my family left this world.  I found a family down there,” she nodded in the direction of her home, “and they filled my cup. Surround yourself with those who are willing to help make you whole again.”