Me: (going out to the pool on a hot summer day, wishing I could forget and forgive) It’s been a year since it all happened and yet I still blame you for what you took from me. I see you everywhere, you are still alive but on that fateful day I Lost everything. Constantly you taunt me with the memories of that day. You touch my face and pictures bounce in front of me. In the yard your clear blue essence beacons to me. I am frozen. Why do you still torture me?
Water: It was not my fault. She came to me and as is my nature, I embraced her.
Me: She was supposed to be with me until MY END, and you ruined that.
Water: I can not help but be who I am.
Me: But still you torment me with your rain, and you keep reminding me, as the shower washes me, of what I lost. I used to love the feeling of you pelting on my face as I let you cleanse me from the day’s grind. But now…..your presence everywhere saddens me.
Water: Why do you speak to me this way? I said it was not my fault!
Me: But you were the one that took her.
Water: Was it a storm? No.
Was it a flood? No.
Was it any other disaster that I would naturally produce? No.
She came to me.
Me: I don’t know what to say, wherever you are, no matter what form, I am afraid. A refreshing swim on a hot summer day is no longer tempting.
Water: She was curious, wanted to see what was inside the gate.
Me: Then, who should I blame?
Water: Blame the soft ground that she unearthed, or the green tarp resembling blades of grass. Fault fate. Perhaps the culprit was God who called her by name?
Me: God is not to blame, he took her from your arms into his.
Water: and he does not blame me for being who I am.
Me: Maybe I can see your point but it will be a long time before I can swim in your waters and even longer before I forget the day Honey died.
Water: I am sorry for that.
Me: Me too.