It does not cure, it does not heal. It does not fix what is wrong by its own presence. It exists - in whatever state it does. And her heart, crafted as the broken and cold thing it is, must always let it go, in the end.
She smiles, serene, to that statement in her own head. The same sort of comfort of lying on a marble floor, chilly and unyielding. Charlie, innocent and frangible, will never be burdened with such things. How fortunate.
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It does not cure, it does not heal. It does not fix what is wrong by its own presence. It exists - in whatever state it does. And her heart, crafted as the broken and cold thing it is, must always let it go, in the end.
She smiles, serene, to that statement in her own head. The same sort of comfort of lying on a marble floor, chilly and unyielding. Charlie, innocent and frangible, will never be burdened with such things. How fortunate.