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July 21, 2008:

I fantasized about your death.

You were ill, summoned me, asked for it to be me to hold your hand when the time came.

You said, "You have always been my true love."

Bitter laughter: you would never come, were I to ask you.

This is why we failed, of course. The fantasy of everlasting loyalty versus the me-first reality of actual practice.

Bless our bitter hearts.

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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips. All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.