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her, her, her

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prelude:

 


 

 

It was strange how they had all met her separately— 

 

 

 

No— not strange.

 

 

 

It was cruel.

 

 

 

If they had known they would all come to love her as much as they did they might have chosen differently—

 

 

 

Might have.

 

 

 

She managed to make them all feel a certain way as the months passed— at different times, different seasons—

 

 

 

All at once.

 

 

 

It was her, they all thought.

 

 

 

Her, her, her—

 

 

 

Her they needed, her they loved.

 

 

 

Then again, it felt wrong thinking they might not have each other someday— they were family.

 

 

 

Them they needed, them they loved—

 

 

 

A family of seven, seven—

 

 

 

It was just enough to stop any of them from telling her everything they kept inside— for a while.

 

 

But none of it was intentional— no, they would never hurt each other.

 

 

They had tried to let her go—

 

 

 

Pushing her away when they felt her get too close; lashing out when they felt her drift away.

 

 

 

She was always too close or too far and it was never enough—

 

 

 

It would never be enough.

 

 

 

It all came down to her, her, her—

 

 

 

 

Wanting her, loving her.

 

 

 

 

 

y/n.