You didn’t steal my power; I gave it willingly. The thousands upon thousands of microdecisions that I made were my own, second to second, minute to minute, hour to hour. Days to weeks to months to years, and over time they slowly took on the shape of fate; of joy and laughter segueing into despondence and sadness. Coincidences and purposes, pitter patter dripping drops of wisdom, and harsh truth. They mixed with the dirt of melancholy, of earthy peat; a palpable odor of grounded reality to fill the nostrils. Lights were nothing more than shadows, crests in valleys, the hills with no one standing there and staring outward, looking away from what was, and when embracing what was to come became an inevitability, the eyes they recognized what was to be, though the shape remained unfamiliar and unknown.
No, you didn’t steal my power. I gave it away, and when I wanted it back, I realized that power given was never returned; the same way that lost time is never regained.