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I I tried to cry, I tried to scream. I was stuck in place. Away from the world. People came and left. I wanted to flow free. I was stuck. They were filled with glee. 

There is no need to worry for my dears, I have met my deepest fears. And come out with a couple scars, but these wounds remind me of the stars. They continue to shine bright and lead the way to tomorrow another day.

And God we pray beseeching, -
But Life with finger reaching,
Stone-stern, remaineth teaching
Our hearts to turn to stone;
Then fain are we to follow
The last, lorn, soaring swallow
Past bourns of holt and hollow
Forevermore alone.

Sharing your story is like pouring water on a wound it might hurt at first, but after a moment the pressure is welcome you quickly realize that the sooner you clean it out and let the light bathe it the quicker it heals until one day you look back and you feel peace.

About separation, that thick black redaction . Do i tell her we end like a book- the end? That when we're gone, we’re gone, too gone to miss or even remember each other? She knows what vanish means. Pretending to do magic, she says it as a verb: For my next trick, I’ll vanish you. I tell her the stars are the exception---- burnt out but still lit.