It’s amazing, reading these old messages of ours, that all it took was one painful act to turn us from something white-hot and electric into strangers. It’s nuclear fission, the splitting of a particle and the intense wave of energy that results, all of it eating me alive. It’s a white witch moth in reverse, furling its wings and crawling back into its cocoon. I can scarcely recall writing these words. I can scarcely believe that you read them and made promises neither one of us could keep.