A Sense of Completion

She had this sense of completion, like her job here was done. And maybe it was better that she felt it so soon, because it would have felt wrong to leave without accepting departure and recognizing that she had done what was set before her and that it was now time to complete her own objectives. Now she must figure out how to love others as herself. She had been lifted so high, and now was in the optimal position to pull others up to her pedestal in the sky, so play on wayward soul, be the leaf in the wind that whips about the faces of star struck girls in new friends' driveways, in the arms of the boys she never wants to leave because in breaking their hearts she breaks her own.

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