Back before the internet, before cell phones,
when college sweethearts kept in touch over the summer
by writing letters,
she broke up with me 
because my writing intimidated her.

Did I say something wrong?
She said no. It wasn't anything I wrote specifically.
It was just how I wrote, in general.
It was too...
intense.

How I wrote?
I made no promises, shared no dreams or 
fantasies about... us.
I did not sermonize or rant
about the errors of others.

I only shared stories of my days
and asked about hers.

I was young. We were young.
I knew she wasn't lying,
there was pain,
so I just let it go.

Years later it occurred to me
what the problem was:
she didn't take herself as seriously as I did.
She wanted all the promises, dreams, and fantasies,
sermons and rants,

to distract her from herself.