Imagine having Peter Pan and Humphrey Bogart in the same room.

Sometimes I am so very much all alone that I create cardboard Gods and Goddesses to come and fetch me

and love me

When Richard refuses to act like one of my Gods– it hurts me.

I feel pain.

He didn’t have to close that door

It shattered through all this silence.

My gods are not real.

And were they real, I should hate them.