burning question

I'm back to writing and burning letters. For the last couple of weeks, I have been holding onto my anger - wrapping it around me like a blanket of protection. Without the anger, I was afraid I would crumble into a ball of sorrow. I am no longer in danger of crumbling. I have been shored up. I am still angry, though. I feel in so many cases lately, I have been tossed around like a ragdoll on the whims of men's egos. So many hurts. Of course, I've let them do it to me. No more.

Tonight I wrote a letter to T. He is the man who came to and stayed on the island by sheer will. He is the man who promised to protect us and stand by our side through thick and thin. He is the man who disappeared in the night without a word.

I surprised myself. Didn't quite realize just how much hurt and disappointment was within me. Ended up writing three pages. That's quite a bit of venom. Burned the letter in my bowl, on the back porch, with Giovanni and Joy watching through the screen. It was quite a show.

I was down to the last match in my tin. I never expected I would be using the last match on T.

Be well, T. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute with you. I hope you find what you are looking for.