OK, so here's the scoop, Mystery Author, because I feel awful for all these days passing without being able to leave a comment. I did read it. I read this when it was first posted, which probably wasn't wise after an 18-hour flight taking me further and further away from a place that I loved, because I could not stop crying for the rest of the day. I returned the next day, swearing I was going to comment, but the same thing happened. And then the next... I took a few days break, and now it's almost a week later, and I want to come back and say something of substance about this, point out the amazing phrases that you use to capture these fragile moments, and give you a comment that does some justice to this amazing piece... but I find I still can't do it. I think you've hit something way too close to home for me. Can I just say that this story touches me in a very deep, personal way, and every lost chance and unspoken word feels like my own mistake; and that doesn't sound like much of a compliment I realise, but it is, in that you've managed to make me feel more than writing usually does, than most words usually can, and I feel utterly lost in the face of them. Your writing is so very powerful. And that's all I know how to say.