Letter to my lost friend
Dear Robert, It’s been a good long while, old friend! I’m writing to you now, curled up on the windowsill of my small bedroom off Lexington Avenue in New York City, while hoping to catch a glimpse of midnight snow. I don’t remember exactly how our correspondence last dropped off—most probably I fell into some deep dark well—and then life moved on. I do think of you more often than you’d expected me to, over the years. When I was struggling, I wished you had found peace; and as I was learning about myself and reconciling with the world, I had hoped you were on a similar path. I have so many curiosities about you: Are you still writing? Have you gotten the family for which you so craved? Did you end up learning Mandarin? But wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I’m comforted by my belief that you are as brilliant, compassionate, and authentic as you were when we got to know each other (virtually as children!) 10 years ago. How I’d love to catch up with you! My life has taken many u
