Maybe there is no despair in promises unkept. Maybe the words spoken into the world act like a bridge over an impassable ravine. And once passed, they have served their purpose.

The magic of a promise is in the pact of envisioning a mutual future in which it can be fulfilled. Together we knit stitches along an open wound to keep from bleeding out.

How can I resent you? We made it to the other side. I thank you. And I release you.