8/27/2007

Flying a kite on a rainy day

I know now that she will never love me. She pinned her hopes on me, expecting me to fly her kite. I failed. Either the wind never blew right, the rain got in the way, or I was holding it the wrong way, I don't know. I just couldn't fly her kite.

And because I am incapable of flying her kite, but capable of fashioning my own kite (and being able to fly it), I know she will never love me. For how could she love? She is a broken thing. Even her kite is sodden and torn from being passed on from my eldest sibling to the youngest, all incapable of flying her kite.

And how can she love me? I am broken like her. I can barely keep my kite together, keep it flying. I am broken, broken by her expectations, longing, and regret.

She can never love me.

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