Circle of Cancer

I know more than a few people who would kill me for saying this, but there are lies, and then there are lies.

I was reading a comment that was coming in the other day on my interesting little "Love Will Come to You" post -

imperfect, tragic hero/lovers, fallen so deeply in love with the idea of love, that no human-tainted love can ever be love enough.love, so pure, that anything beyond the most chaste of touches would break its fragile bindings.a pity, that we all live in our own little 'field of knives'.

And wanted to let you know that I thought about you. Somewhere in the middle of the day, you came into my mind, and I wondered where you might be, and what you may be doing. In some way I know this sounds like you.

She let me read some of the Other's emails to her the other day - and the Other sounds so strangely like you, that I mentioned so.

I still remember our promise of Amsterdam, sorely broken. And in that creeping mind of mine, was wondering why I envied her maintaining contact with the Other, whereas I'd just let a chance of mine to truly live slip by. Mij engel, if you are there, can you please leave me a note again, just so that I might know that you still live, and that I have some contact with you still?