I wrote you a letter she said as we were walking hand in hand upon the gravel road leading to the bridge with its dark waters below. She says this so nervously and with a small smile upon her lips. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened. She says almost guiltily. She pulls it out and awkwardly hands it to me as if she is worried she wont be able to give it to me later because she would lose her nerve. In that moment my heart breaks and I am a small child again. Oh, I say, thank you, I say, but really I want to pick her up and kiss her face and tell her I love her more than any other before her, either that or run away and hide from her. We walk to the bridge in the night and we climb down its bank and find a spot in the darkness beneath it. I set my bag down and take out the spray cans and began to paint hell and heaven and earth upon the bridges concrete underbelly by the glow of a flash light we had brought. Here, I say, I got this color for you, and as I hand her the can she says she just wants to watch me for a while. After a few minutes she picks up the can and begins to carve out her own piece on the bridge. I am secretly proud of her for doing this but don’t say anything. She paints a heart and then her initial. She is pleasantly surprised by her own skill and lets me know it. I continue my own work and had forgotten all about the letter until I hear her voice softly in my ear. I want you to read it she says. I want you to read what I have written to you. Oh yeah? I say, you don’t want me to wait? No she says, I did want you to wait at first but I cant wait, I want you to read it now. She is impatient, and nervous, and amazingly beautiful. I take it out and unfold the pages, she moves around nervously as I begin. Her words speak of love and trust, of never feeling the way she did now. They cry out with her heart and cut my soul in two. The whole time she watches me as I am ripped to pieces in the dark, underneath that bridge. She spoke of all the things I never wanted to hear because I could not love her in the way that was laid out upon that pale, white page. I wrote you a letter she said, to tell you how I feel. I am brought low by the unbridled honesty on the page. With all the misspelled words and clumsy attempts at expressing what she felt so strongly in her heart. I am destroyed by her love. Its so hard ,she says to me then, to watch you walk away, and so easy to let you back in. Later as we lie awake in her bed, I stare into her eyes and see only sadness. What baby? I ask, whats wrong? Im just waiting she says, waiting for you to leave again. I wrote you a letter, she says. And I want you to read it right now.