All things end, every thing that begins bears the seeds of its own destruction, just as every thing that is destroyed bears the possibility of creation. This is just one more.
But as of now, I have no loves left on the grid.
There are those I adore, there are those who are friends, though poor enough company I've been for them these past two years. But there is no one, heart to my heart, left. Where I walk, I will walk alone.
The doll is broken beyond repair, and will never know another crafter's touch. She is currently boxed away where she will come to no harm.
I still believe that no door closes without opportunities arising; in time, this may be a good thing. When I can think clearly again, I may see it.
For now, all bonds are severed; I keep no binding on that other's heart. I will not, I do not, retract friendship; give me time, I'll talk again. For now, we live in silence, and the hope of healing.