It's a fairly surreal story -- my ex-lover sends me a postcard, I write back, my reply is found by a drifter who starts writing to me fan letters, calling me thought-provoking and "a very solid and legit young woman."

We've been carrying on this odd correspondence for a while now, and I enjoy having a reason to check the mail, and while I'm thinking about M. I can't be worrying about J. who was doing so well for so long until he nearly killed himself with poisonous mushrooms.

Sometimes I even think I'm not in love with him anymore.

I've been spending my time flirting by letter, doing what I can to avoid thinking about him, reading the books that M. recommends, digging up CDs of M.'s favorite music, saving my money to leave home although at the moment I have nowhere specific to go. I'm rebuilding a life out of secondhand cassette tapes and fifty-dollar bills. For now that's almost enough.

M. took a photograph of J. when they were staying at the same house for a few days. I found it partly by accident, and he looks so sick.

It's a new year, and I've already done so much to put the past in its place, but for now I have to pause and raise my glass to missed opportunities.


Anonymous
1/05/2009
11:04:00 PM