I thought once that I could be a light in the dark, a fixed point from which you could navigate,
the reminder and protector of all love and life that you have become so adept at denying to yourself.
I had hoped, that by the power of my love, I could retrace your footsteps in the desert sands, find the source of that secret fire, and lead you back to where you began.  That was my hope, my wish, to be the Prometheus, the exiled light-bringer...that was the myth I clothed myself in, the facet of self I allowed in. But it was only a partial identity, a partial self allowed to live, with the rest of my soul symbolically strangled, cast off like a ***** coat, and that....that is what invited fragmentation. I can bring light to someone no more than can a broken mirror, or a moon covered with cloud. It is the disparity between the dream and the reality, between the loves and the betrayals, that prevents me from retracing any path but my own. I can't reach out to you across this ocean because I don't know how, because I made myself forget who I was in the beginning, before I was so overcome that I exiled myself. It was I who silenced my own heartsong, I who am afraid to live and love without restraint. I yearn to be these things for you, and every other I have ever loved (or thought I loved), because it is exactly that which I yearned for they to be to me. I am the one in need of light, I am the one lost at sea, I am the one wandering the desert in search of the God I abandoned so long ago, I am the one trying to return home. And it was unfair, horribly unfair, for me to make every woman who loved me into something that they were not, and may not, have wanted to be.