"Why? Why do you carry this burden of hatred still? What was the cause of this great wound on your heart?"

"I...I...no longer remember. The wound is almost light enough to be called shallow, yet it carries a deep bite and the infection runs deep."

"So why does this pain, caused by another, have to come between us?"

I...don't know." She wept, until her sporadic emotions were finally locked back in their room. After a few deep breaths she found herself able to continue. "I was hurt once, and while the cause and first pains are now faint whispers of a memory, the wound itself seethes with puss. I am constantly picking away the scab and reveling in the fresh blood, refusing to admit that the pain can be healed if I only let it, and help it.

"Yes, I admit this willingly...sort of...but, after the first step...the second seems dreadfully far away. I need help. I'm calling for your help, even though you can't help me. Why? I don't remember."