Been a month. Josie had a baby boy. So darling. Life is so precious & wonderful. I love holding him. She had an amazing birth experience sans drugs. Makes me think about all that, about trying to do the same.
Teaching has been wonderful. Fun. Realizing how bored I was teaching comp. Love my seniors. Doing the whole machine of life thing — but this time I know more.
And then today the shock of 4 years later. An email from you. What?! About a poem I wrote — “Chronological.” Wants to know what it means? What do I say? How do I respond? The fantasy has become real — now you’re in my inbox, waiting for a reply. I’ve been writing poems about being here without you & now this.
Yes, I still think about you; yes, I still write about you — always will. You will always be a part of me — but not where it matters. You’re in my poems, not in my life. It wouldn’t work. I’m married now — I’m happy.
My poems — my whole thesis — writing these letters to you & now you actually read one of them. The beauty & ugliness of technology. How you found me and one of the letters and wrote me an email — reaching out to me.
This is so fucking tragic — you have no idea. This is what I wanted but did not want.
I should have drowned on the Edens yesterday trying to find you. The life we live. The life we decide to live. Society, the machine. Vicki Christina Barcelona the other day — love makes me think of you. You were probably watching the Hawkeyes. Ugh!
What made you think of me? The poems I write — you read one. You, my reader, read one …