And this was where Bettes current conundrum came in. She had been making slow, hard-earned progress, not Bettes normal style of progress that rendered instant results, but it was progress. And Bettes usual yearning for reward and recognition had reared its head and had so far remained unfulfilled. She wanted to call Tina and share her new realisations, the ones shed made about herself, the ones shed made regarding Tina and the ones shed made about their disintegration. And although the realist in Bette discarded it immediately, there was that small, often ignored, voice of naivety in Bettes head that hoped Tina would recognise the changes in Bette, forget all about their old problems and come running back to her with open arms.

Bette wearily rubbed her temples she didnt need those kind of thoughts, the ones that got her hopes up just for them to be knocked back down again. She needed to call Tina; she wanted recognition for her efforts right now. The impatience that coursed through her was itching at her fingertips, which had now returned to their original spot, hovering over the phone waiting to dial that old familiar number. But the new Bette, the one that had been thinking a little more, thought of Tina and how she would feel. Did Tina want to hear Bettes voice? Would the familiar sound of Bette at the other end make her sit back and remember the good times? Or would it remind her that this was the voice that had whispered passion-fuelled secrets to another, those longings meant for Tinas ears only?

These sudden doubts that invaded her mind made Bette hastily withdraw her hand away. She needed to create some method of communication with Tina she just didnt know what was the best way. The wounds were still far too fresh for them to even consider meeting up. A phone call, Bette had already realised, could have an equally bad effect and an e-mail was far too impersonal. No, she needed something that could tell Tina what she was feeling but that gave Tina the option to either reject or respond to what she was saying. She realised forcing Tina into talking was not the way. Tina was the one who needed to be in control of these new lines of communication.

So what then? The only realistic option left was a letter. The modernist in Bette immediately dismissed it as too old fashioned. However, the more she thought about it the more the secret romantic in Bette liked the idea. A letter was perfect; it would enable Bette to provide an uninterrupted train of thought that Tina wasnt forced into responding to. And Bette found that she liked that old-fashioned romanticism a letter seemed to represent. It reminded her of the good old days, before her and Tina had become exposed to the convenience of e-mail and cell phones. And Bette wanted to make Tina remember those days.

And so it was, with a pen clutched determinedly in her right hand and her brow furrowed in deep concentration that Bette began to embark on forging a new link between her and Tina. A link that would bind the two during the good times and unite them in enduring the bad, a link that would withstand the inevitable hurt, vulnerability and fear that both women would throw at each other in the rectification of this broken relationship.