Synesthesia's Getting Too Popular These Days

Dear K,

You haven't returned my calls or letters for a while now. I've found artifacts of you on the internet, so I know you're still out there somewhere.

Help me understand.

Please.

I found an apartment. The windows look out on a sculpture garden. It's just a small studio, but I think it will be home. I hope to have it by the end of the month, and then maybe I'll feel better about my place in the world. I'll lace up my shoes in the morning and walk to work. I'll sit down every other week and make a budget and pay my bills on time and do my own income taxes.

For my birthday I asked for kitchen knives, which I received along with a blender. I'm going to cook things for myself and be healthy and fit. I'm going to lose all this weight I put on in college trying to drink away my sorrows and angst.

I've got an attachment for my bicycle, it props up the back wheel and provides resistance against the spin. Every night I sit on it and pedal, and I feel like I'm getting somewhere.

Today I got a library card. The library is on the other side of my apartment building, and it's windows are all covered in a copper glaze, and it always reminds me of the end of a Summer and the middle of Fall. The end of Fall is dark and deep deep blow, freckled around the edges with crisp white and frozen breath. The end of Winter is a sort of warming Robin's Egg blue. The end of Spring is the end of romance, it is the end of lilac dreams, but it is a sort of trumpeting sound, Spring doesn't have a color.

You are a sort of tangled mess of things. You're violet and crimson and jet-jet black, but also turquoise and streaks of white and high electric blue, and somewhere in there is some pink, but that might just be when you blush.

You sound like a carousel.

And you smell like roses and onions in white wine, would you prefer if I said shallots? But also icewater, crisp and refreshing, with the slight metallic taste that is the iron in your own blood.

Come back to this place of letters,
I'll make it safe again,

K