Re: Postcard
[There's a wine stain at the corner, and the paper smells sweetly of weed.]
Mine (which I think is poetical),
I'm about to make myself seem very old, but I like effort. I grew up in a time when everything required effort. Learning anything meant going somewhere, talking to someone or reading something that was outdated. And don't you dare tell intellectuals or academics that spelling isn't important, or they'll fall over and die on your shoes. As for landlines, we called them phones. Thrilling, I know.
Things you can't write down? Are they exciting things? Please, let them be exciting things.
I make assumptions, which is another thing they teach spies. I did leave a note, and it was delivered to the tarmac at the airport when I didn't show for the flight. The fact that you don't know this leads me to believe you didn't show for the flight either. I love drama, but I don't have any desire to make people worry about me, not when it isn't deliberately instilled worry. I don't feel as weird as before, but I'm never going to be the mother she needs. I was never the mother she needed before any of this. We aren't avoiding anything. New leaf.
Hook up. Sleep with. Fuck. Etc. Ask him if he can stand you? I'm starting to think you might have a complex. Do you think you bring your preconceived notions into it? I don't mean with Jack, who hates you for reasons of jelousy, and I don't mean Eddie, who can be even more jelous than Jack, but, you know, other people.
Ah, well, so much for desperate measures. In all honesty, I don't expect you to use surveillance to find me. I know you too well for that at this point. But, you see, I like being chased. I can't guarantee I'll tell you anything.
Yours, and, yes, this is what I've been up to. Disapprove at will.