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 unexpected (in other ways very expected) turns in the past years. On a sleepless night almost a year ago, I logged back into Interpals after so many years and ended up rereading the entirety of our correspondences. I tried to write you then, but your account had already been deactivated. 

How could I possibly lose touch irretrievably with someone in this hyper connected age we live in? It drove me into a frenzy. I pored over our letters, and I realized that throughout the many years we knew each other. I never thought to inquire about your last name, or even your home state. We discussed literature, religion, creativity, our deepest desires, and yet I couldn’t even place you on a map. I knew so much about you, yet none of it could help me find you. 

I must have been too spoiled in the past, because I couldn’t think of anything more tragic that’s every happened to me. If you know me, and I believe you do, you know how I consider every relationship precious, no matter the form, distance, or medium. 

I fear (despite this letter put out into the electronic ether) I’ve lost you forever, my old friend. I’ll never discover where you end up, if you ever heal from your forbidden affair, or whether you keep on writing poetry. Or even—I do hope I’m not being melodramatic—if you’re still thriving on this earth. 

There’s a small part of me that is convinced that the chances of us bumping into each other again is not astronomical. You were a very rare creature indeed, and you were headed for a brilliant and very much international life. Perhaps our paths will cross again…and when it does, will we recognize each other? 

No matter what happens, do know that I have nothing but warm thoughts and best wishes for you. 


Your patient friend,

Constance Hsu

First written 2023.2.27

Edited and published 2023.11.26

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