Try as she might she cannot help but think of him. Once so close she could touch his soul with a sigh, now he is light years away tilting at windmills his troubled mind puts in his path. She calms him somehow he had once said, bringing flashes of happier times through the darkness that holds his memories captive like prisoners of war.

She tears off pieces of herself to heal the wounds time and battle have left him. She calms the winds to keep those windmills from turning, reminding him he is connected to something bigger.

But, sometimes the windmills win.

Sometimes he is so broken that even though they are made of the same star she cannot reach him. In the far away distance she can hear the wind starting to rise and the sound of those windmills turning.

She knows she will always be tearing off pieces.