The Callender has my heart.
Moving away and taking it with her as her farewell gift to me.
To whom do I hand the sword to end me of the miserable contemplating,
speculating,
and hoping for the impossible to set itself into motion.
The deed has been done and there remains nothing for me to do.
Yet I come and her beckon and respond to her calls of me.
All the while she still remains in the heart of another man.
Someone else's...

There once was a guy who fell for a girl.