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Saturday, May. 18, 2019 - 10:25 pm
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Today I went to the library, and my boyfriend knelt down and picked up a butterfly from the walkway between the cars. He was looking at it and i asked if it was okay. He said no. It looked very wounded. He handed it to me. I felt her little feet grasp onto and rest holding my index finger. Her brilliant brown wings with black, blue, and white eye markings were severely damaged and torn in parts. Her body crushed, and obviously wounded. I had nothing to bring her home in safely. I had to leave her on a shrub. I didnt want to. I felt really bad. I still do. I feel an incredible amount of empathy with that dying, wounded butterfly. I am probably the last person to hold her and tell her she was so beautiful. before she passes. I've never held a common buckeye butterfly before. ~e
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