She loved you still.
Literally.
Specifically.
Captured your demons and buried them in a box beneath your maple tree.
Lightened the dark road ahead, buried many pains beneath many dreams.
Believed the words, It's not you; it's me.
And when he could finally see in himself, what she saw in thee: I'm sorry, Sweets - I can stand on my own two and I'd rather be free.
Fly away, fly away home.
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