I never said goodbye to her, never broke the connection properly. We had one last difficult conversation and that was it. She slammed the phone down as a screw you and that was it. I didn’t want her to marry that German. As far as I know, she did. I thought there was something special, something divinely sanctioned because we met in the Sistine Chapel. Shouldn’t that have been a kind of imprimatur? But time apart worked its fell magic on the little pieces of a relationship that we had. Damn Time, damn Love. I had fallen into a funk and wasn’t able to act properly.