The incomplete end

It was raining very hard. She was very happy for the rain.
It hit her petals hard, and the pain it caused soothed her pain in an odd way.
It hid her tears, her warm tears against the cold rain.
She cried for him; and for them.

She had feared this pain, but not in this form.
She had thought, believed, her star would not be affected.

Yet, it had finally happened; worse than she had expected.
She thought she'd break only her own heart. but she'd broken his too. What was worse, with her love.
He had dimmed, had lost the twinkle she loved.
The twinkle, she now knew; she had given him.
So she let the breeze sway her without complain.
Stealing her fragrance.
Hurting her, easing her tears.

Each tear made her love him more. Each hurt her more to have caused him to be hurt.
Hurt through loving her. Simple, pure undemanding love.
She cried till her heart became cold, lost all the warmth of his love in those tears.
Tears as cold as the rain.