This is my response...

You cannot win the heart of the tambourine with gossamer Elven caresses, or delicate little finger taps. She laughs at your faintheartedness. She is the thunder in the waves breaking upon the jagged rocks of your soul. She is the wind that roars through the emptiness where once lived your heart. Remember? She tore that from you, beating still, all the while shrieking with laughter. You can hear it even now... the rhythmic pounding of your heart... thub a dub a dub... the shriek of the wild thing... iiiieeeeeeee!!!!

You want to go back. Back to the safe place in your life where you never knew such wildness, but you know you can't. She has your heart now. Hear it? It's beating to the rhythm of her pounding waves, the crashing of her mighty cymbals! She holds you in her hand and she shakes you and pounds upon you until you surrender your music to her. And then she leaves you, crumpled and dazed, drained of any will to try her again. But she's not worried. She knows you'll be back. She is the tambourine.