Tuesday, March 12, 2002 7:27:24 PM



Painting a sad picture

I was once married. It was a lovely affair. The stars burst into being that night. I was dropped into a field of buttercups, too madly in love. And so was he. But it was in the past, and very much a delicious memory than a present reality.



Today, I am no longer with him, as one. No longer, because he, and therefore I, had a problem that we never could solve. It required a hope more than he and I could conjure up. And so I am no longer married.



We were made for each other. But not meant to be.