got a letter today. and it was good. from a friend …a very old and dear friend. and the ritual is that i make myself a cup of tea, get comfy on the couch, and open the envelope slowly and count how many pages. i drink each word in, because his letters are a treasure.
there never will be a replacement for the handwritten letter… the sloppy writing, the smudged pen marks… the scribbled out words replaced by better ones… and the love at the end.
what i wouldn’t give to hop in my car, pick you up and drive off under a nightsky filled with stars and potential. hole up in an allnight diner somewhere in the middle of nowhere, sip coffee and talk, talk, talk. or not. sometimes, we write what we can’t say out loud. sometimes, there’s no need but just to sit and watch, look and understand just where we are at this time in our lives. let the particles floating around us deliver the message. i miss you.
but i keep it intact. missing doesn’t change much of anything does it? never did. never did.
we know this.