Maybe if I keep bleeding words onto paper… feeding them to the internet… the right ones will eventually find their way from my heart into yours. Like a medicinal cure for pneumonia, the words would eat away at the divide that somehow developed between us. I imagined a beach appointment and using spoken words to heal the pain and close the distance, but your lack of response quickly put the kibosh on my chimerical fantasies. Considering the inequities of this situation, I’m not sure why I had hope for even that one small twinkle of a moment when I made that call. Love is superfluous; left unaccounted for in life’s ledger. Shall we talk about the pachyderm in the room? I love beyond my ability to function, but I am possessive, jealous, and stubborn. I don’t need your every thought and action to orbit around me, myself, and my needs. But my possessive, jealous, stubbornness gives priority to love. Set in my stodgy ways… I have to be the only woman in that position with you. Ironically, I traded in my dreams of drinking wine on the front porch of our bungalow for my stubborn, selfish needs and despite your developing ability to meet my needs, you left me for the exact reason I left you. As each day passes, the little kernel of hope that fueled my phone call dies. I will continue to bleed words until the pain begins to coagulate around the dead seed and words can no longer flow.