Fresh…Something or Other…

This may end up as a simple "stream-of-consciousness/rant-type-thing" and not appear in A Wren in the Willow at all, but I still want to share it. (Unfortunately, it's still untitled.)

I loved him, once.


I loved him fiercely, ferociously, unchangingly…as I love all those of my tribe; sworn or no, sealed or no.

He could have said, “Write me a play” and I would have tried.

He could have said, “Become Jewish for me” and I would have seriously considered it.

He could have said, “Move to China with me. Move to South Korea, move to Peru”…and I might have.

But instead, without any words at all, he said, “Go away”…and I had to.

I had to lay down everything I loved, everything I’d embraced, everything I felt…everything and just walk away.

And by the gods, it was a bitch.

It still is.

I try to put on armor, I try to close the castle doors, try to pull down the portcullis and order the soldiers to standby.

But beneath it all, I’m still weak.

Beneath it all, I’m still in love.

Beneath it all, I’m asking the gods why they haven’t finished pulling us apart for good…


…and I still don’t have an answer.

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