Re: postcard: castor & pollux.
[Another image from the coloring pages comes back, all bright color choices, and the handwriting on the note's a little messier.]
Pollux,
I hope this thing you sent me is what you do with these pictures I'm sending you. No damn clue how long its been since I've colored something. As for why we didn't go? There just wasn't time. Or interest. It was supposed to be a surprise, but the relationship was on its way out the door. Still not sure why I've held onto them this long, but I like the idea of them getting framed and being a part of something better than what they were. Or, hey, if you can get refunds, use them to fund that trip of yours.
I'm not going to make you say that. You can make your own choices and I'm not the type to try and tell anybody how they should see things. I might give warnings, but that's only polite if you know someone's about to run into one of your sharp edges. If you say you want to be friends, I think it takes a special kind of self loathing to try and talk someone out of it, and that? That I don't have.
It doesn't change things that you don't like wine, but that's my point. I hated the stuff until I finally found one I didn't. Same thing applies to life. Sometimes, things we used to hate? We find they're not so bad when we revisit them. I thought I'd hate small towns after growing up in one, but I'm finding maybe that's not the case. And I don't think anybody is less of a person because they're not in love, or have yet to find someone who loves them. Same as I wouldn't think someone is less because they had love and lost it. It's not a requirement to have a good life, but I tell you Pollux...when you find it? It's like getting ice cream with all your favorite toppings on it and I hope you do find it.
Just don't rush to put a ring on it. Savor it. Appreciate it. Be real with it. If you get to the point of putting a ring on it though, I'd hope to get an invite to the wedding.
Being frightened by it is part of being vulnerable Pollux and if you're telling the truth? Well, there's no way you're not vulnerable. It's like a dog rolling over to show you its belly. You've got to trust that it's not going to be held against you and judged for it. I can't ask you to believe that from me, this pen on a page, but I can tell you that you'd get a letter back. I'm not the judging type. Life's too short for that and you never know what's led someone to the place they're at. I don't think you can judge someone without all those details personally, and even then? I don't think you should. Life's hard on all of us.
You mean aside from the anonymous postcard writing?
I'm kidding. I've noticed pal. Life's weird and every place has its own strange. I just appreciate this place putting it right out in the open.
Have you ever cooked? There's something damn cathartic to me. Plus you're literally nurturing yourself. That kind of simple self investment can be real helpful on the hard days I think.
So we're in agreement. We should both have dogs. Do you have one already? Have you ever if not?
That's exactly it, it's not safe. It never will be. It can be snatched away in a second, for no reason at all, and that's the same reason I don't look over my shoulder much. I figure, if the grim reaper's coming for me, I'll find out about it on my own time and there's no need to see it coming. I figure I'd prefer to go quick and quiet, rather than the panic of knowing. As for being small? I think that's one of the biggest comforts to me. It's hard to take my own problems very seriously when I know they don't really matter in the grand scheme of things. It lets me focus on enjoying right now, like when I try and eek out some time to sit down and write you these letters.
Yours truly, Castor
P.S. If you end up right, I won't even roll my eyes. P.P.S. Whiskey. Straight up. And it sure was. Please tell me you're putting your feet up in a nice pair of slippers while you were writing this then?