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It's over. It's over. She's gone to find better things. A better stag. I knew from the moment I met her, you know...I warned her... That I wouldn't be good enough. Sooner or later, she'd see that.
I thought I'd be more prepared, knowing that.
...I hope she'll be happy. I hope she'll find a better stag than me, who'll love her stronger and purer and better. I hope she and him will raise a lot of fawns together, the way she wants.
The way she wants more than me. Really, it makes perfect sense. I didn't deserve her. This is just the world falling to balance. Like... Like... I'm sorry. I can't come up with a simile today. I'll try harder.

I don't recall right now exactly what I did then, when all the choices were made. I think I ran for a while, beating my hooves out against the ground like the pouring of rain, my world so hot with loss that I'd have welcomed real rain. Or maybe I broke something, smashing up stones in my hooves, more and more until my breath couldn't take it, thundering the rocks breaking like hearts or crumbled cheese. Certainly, something was broken... And when I came to myself, head pressed against the cool stone bridge, my hooves were hot and sore.

Then someone came and worriedly gave a bow, and when I sat back down (I cannot refuse a greeting from someone who greets me, no matter my mood. No one should waste their time on my feelings.), she sat down with me. I sat by the birdge with that mini doe, until she had to leave.

Then it was all restlessness, trying to find a place where I could be alone. After all, there are people in this world -- I think -- foolish enough to have good opinion of me. And because, in the end, my heart doesn't matter. That's clear enough, isn't it?

I tried sitting underwater and in flower patches, and both times, I let myself to thing... That if I just sat there long enough, if I didn't move for long enough....