hello,

there’s not a lot of years i look back on and think that any other version of myself would have ended up roadkill on the way here. even in memory there’s an enduring violence to it, a spine that cuts if i linger. my body triaged, habituated, dulled in the sheer force of grief. i couldn’t separate myself from it sometimes, near indistinguishable, two objects so close they may well have just been one. so i continued moving, too fearful that if i ever stopped it would materialize, give it substance, the shape of an unwelcome visitor. the kind of uninflected recognition that seeked a mirror and found in you

this year, i hope you are unafraid. i hope you graduate well, i hope you pass your accreditation exams, i hope you enjoy the summer trip with your best friends and take a million pictures. i hope you love your new job with your new coworkers and watch 200 movies and eat lots of soup and sing terribly at karaoke and treat yourself and those you love with compassion and grace

i hope that it is all as bright and gorgeous as you dreamed

see you again next spring

love, a