There lived a girl who lost her love
(if you can really call it living;
if you could really call it love).

There was one who'd loved her in return and she'd kept him close, almost inside of her. She wondered why he felt so far away.

"so much time he spends with me, and i with he, but i never feel we have spent it together. i feel i'm forever entering rooms he's only just left..."

She kept him close to keep him away.
A million miles, a galaxy, can't separate two hearts one love cleaves...
But the space between two bodies, between two minds, separated only perhaps by the space of a breath, is the space she accidentally (intentionally) employs to let a chasm drop between them. ("A closeness almost realizing but simultaneously denying is intoxicatingly satisfying...")

She never finishes anything she starts.
Oh she ends it though.