Only if you knew...

*Just to say it's not a poem, instead, it is pretty short story I wrote few nights ago. Well, enjoy and tell me what you think.

It was Sunday, the first day of spring. But the sun was gone, there wasn't a single trace of it. Instead, the sky was covered with dark clouds, from which huge rain drops were falling on the dry ground, hitting it with no mercy. One modest boy was hiding under the crown of one house. Wet and hungry, the little boy was hoping that the rain will stop almost immediately, so he could get some money from the generous people, and bring few pieces of old bread to his sick mother and his baby brother...
She finished the letter with tears in her eyes. In the last part of the letter, there was a little smudge that was supposed to be a signature, but got wet from the bitter tears she was crying while closing it. She was feeling she'll shatter if she doesn't tell him all those things that were on her lonely mind. That gut feeling she had, was going stronger, that powerful that'd lead any weak person to the rope ... or the knife at least. She was strong, at least she thought so. "I can go trough this, Ive been many times" - she was convincing herself. Deep inside, she knew the truth. She was old. Not in age, but her soul was. Been trough rough times, no one ever knew she was fragile. They all had the image of the warrior princess that destroys everything on her way. They weren't even close ....
She put the letter in her pocket and went out. The huge rain drops were hitting her pale face, and wetting the cotton dress that was clearly showing the body shape of a beautiful, young lady. She noticed the little boy, who was turning blue from coldness and fear. Gave him the letter, a small piece of paper with some address on and money. She smiled at him, with her soft lips, but in the depths of her sky blue eyes, was hidden sadness and pain, huge pain that was torturing her essence.
The boy started running. Quickly put the money and the letter in the inside pocket of his old, velvet jacket and read the address few times. He got to the place, and at the moment he was opening the mail box, one young man opened the house door. Absorbed and he seemed as he is expecting someone. Gave the little boy more money and opened the letter. On the top of it, with good handwriting, was written
"Miss J."
His eyes changed their contour, from strict and doubtless, to soft and full of guilt. He started reading..
"Now, as I'm standing on a crossroad again, the same I've been many times before, I'd like to thank all of you that led me to this.
Where did I go wrong? - I keep asking myself. What did I do, to make you do this to me? I gave you a piece of me, part of my soul and a part of my life. I told you all my fears, all of the secrets I've been hiding and keeping in myself with ages. You had me in your hands, like a little puppy that licks its masters hand. You could help me or break me. You decided to amuse yourself..
You said you care. Many times. Made me believe your damn lies ... over and over, all over again. Now you, you say you still care. If you really care, if you ever cared as much as you say, you wouldn't do this to me. I told you you're hurting me. You just unobserved those 4 little words and kept feeding yourself with my grief.
I cried. Many Times. Over and over, all over again. Broke the assure I promised to myself 'Never cry again' that I was repeating. That promise will never come true.
Do you know why? Because you'll hurt me .. over and over, all over again.
Yours,
Miss J. "

He glanced at the letter few more times. The look on his face changed even more, his eyes were full of tears. But he was a man, and he thought that men shouldn't cry. His arms were shaking, so he took the bottle of old Scottish whiskey and took a long gulp. Read the letter once more, analyzing each word with awareness, that careful, that the lines on his smooth forehead showed up. He sighed deeply and sat in the nearest black armchair. "Only if you knew" - he sighed..