she always needed time on her own. ‎ ‎she never thought she'd need you there, you know. with days that feels like years when she's alone and the bed where you lie is made up on your side. cuddle much? she think not. not when you're not there. not when all of that we were too close to the stars shit applies to us. missing all of you and she don't think vodka can cut it anymore. ‎ ‎so here she was. ‎ ‎in a field of dandelions, facing a plain slab of stone where your name should be. but she doesn't feel emotionally okay to even carve a letter of your name on the greyish thing she found back when she found the burnt remains of your broken pod. ‎ ‎staring at nothingness, lingering on the feeling of the blowing breeze, listening to it as if it were your answer, "do they think of me the way i do up there? up there in.." she shrugged her shoulders, "..that place humans calls heaven? well, you'll know if you're dead. but i'm not so sure since you just.." she shook her head, "i don't know." ‎ ‎staring at the tombstone, "are you?" she humorlessly questioned with a little grin and lazily gestures with her hands "—like, who punch their way out a pod anyways, right?" she laughs a little, "probably you, partner." ‎ ‎cause you did. ‎ ‎and she don't know why. ‎ ‎did you got in trouble, or did you just bail on her? is it self sabotage or someone did it to you? if it's the second reasoning, then maybe she would have something to fight to stay for than drinking her guts out until she can't blink anymore, until you're gone off her mind like you physically do. ‎ ‎"you just left to do what you wanted, and no matter what, right?" she smiles a little, "i bet you were happy."