Unsent

Hi,

I knew before I sat down that this was a bad idea. Hes Just not That Into You is in theatres right now. Oh the terrible cruel timing!

If you wanted to know how I was, you’d ask. You’d write or call or send a homing pigeon or something. You have done one of these things and so I must assume that you don’t much care, an assumption I made and have stuck with for quite some time now. The thing is, your not caring about how I am, (sadly) does not preclude my wanting to know how you are. A conundrum at best.

If I had you here, I would want to tell you the following things. I would want to tell you that I see you everywhere. You are that guy on the subway, you are 4 people ahead of me at the check out counter at the supermarket, you are on the opposite side of the street as my streetcar goes by, you are the guy over there on the bike. I would tell you that I miss you, whatever that could possibly mean given that you were never really a part of my life. I would tell you that the last thing you said to me only made me want you more because it was so honest and true, despite being disappointing. I would tell you that I have an ache that lives where my ribs split and that the weight of the nothingness defies all scientific rationale. I would ask what you were reading. I would ask about your family. I would tell you I have tableaus of us permanently etched in my mind’s eye and that there are places I can not separate you from in my memory and that a large part f the city now ‘belongs’ to you. I would let you buy me a coffee and then I would say goodbye again with all the conviction of the first time and then I would leave, walking slowly, allowing you the time to make up the distance between where you sit and my place on the sidewalk.  I will do this despite knowing that you are already looking down at the paper.