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Sometimes, I wish that I could erase bad memories or collect them in a jar. I just can't stand re-living these painful bits when they play on in my mind, as I watch her. She lay beside me; asleep and looked so peaceful, as if pain hadn't had her trapped once; pain that I had no idea of its origin, but it had been there and crippled her. No one really knew that life for her had become a painful journey. I saw her take action against herself, but I didn't know, why? She was able to walk and talk; she had food and water; clothes and shelter, and bright future, but above all she had me. I watched her shatter and become weak and fable; not the young lady I fell in love with, but a coward afraid to face the world like average somebodies who crawl before they walk; no she wanted to fly! But birds fly, darling, not young ladies. I wanted her to see the pretty in herself that I could see, but she refused to believe that she had greatness given to her by God and I watched her try to make her own fate, but she only broke my heart. I thought about leaving her for dead, but a broken heart doesn't keep you from loving and caring. I carried her away to keep her safe under my care and now just a year later she lies beside me asleep looking angelic, as if the pain had never been in her heart, but I lie awake with the images of her spirit breaking, in my mind. It is hard to recover from a broken heart and I fear that I am becoming overcome with pain...pain from the memories, and she may not have my heart to break again.