Dear M,
We haven’t talked in so long. I haven’t taken the time to write. I’ve been thinking a lot. I’ve spent a lot of time in silence. It’s been good, I think.
I’ve come to understand that nothing matters, and that everything matters. Perhaps more usefully: anything might matter to anyone, and you get to choose what path to take. Today I’ve held my child. Yesterday I lifted heavy weights. All the time I sit and think about computer things. None of it matters. All of it matters. It matters so much that it hurts, and yet the pain I inflict on myself, entirely voluntarily.
Some days, like today, feel harder than others, because it’s harder to remind myself to let go. But once I get there, and I breathe more freely, everything moves again, and my life is in balance.
I just wanted you to know that I’m doing better than I ever have. I feel perhaps less joy than when I last wrote, but that, too, is entirely my choice. I have a will for improvement, and a will to perfection that is never going to be satisfied. Nothing is important than to push on, and become a better person, every day more so than the day before.
I hope you’re okay, and I hope you still feel as tenderly towards me as I feel towards you. Sometimes I miss you. I hope we talk again soon. I think we will. I feel like I can talk again, now tha I know what I have to say.
V