Ah, me…I am the fool with a torched umbrella, to think you want to hear from me, for the leaps of faith I engage in. I stumble with this burden, the electricity no longer tingles and plays, it yet shocks the system. Who knew the soul could be so heavy? I sent you a letter. Three times, thinking maybe you would get it. Goddess, God, and Grief! I should have placed them here! The final goodbye, to stupid young girl dreams in this head with silken webs of silver beginning their inevitable fretwork. How? How could you do that? If you loved me you wouldn’t have pushed so hard to know my secret. And then when you knew, to pull me into your arms, the only place in the world I wanted to be; only to send me into the arms of someone else? How could you be so crass? A man who says he’s in love with a woman isn’t willing to share her! When the secret was a whisper of love for you, you should have decided then, that day; not take the fruits of years fermenting into the open to squeeze and discard. I couldn’t wait forever for you to decide then. And you won’t ask me to wait now. And I’ve already waited thirty years to be in your arms. Always you were never mine. Always almost single, but not quite. Not quite free to be with the girl, nor free to be woman who loved you fiercely and privately. Why did you push me to confess? And then punish when I dare speak it aloud in wonder? You set the storm free. And now we both drown in it. How dare you pursue when all I was to you was a conquest to be challenged, played, left on the other side of the broken bridge…but only after…only after you torched my heart, broke my umbrella against the rain…again. You. So harsh and gentle, love. YOU.