Dear K-
I disappeared for a while. We both seem to do that, from time to time. Occasionally I have to drift into the shadows and lie there, very still, until I begin to sense the slow rotation of the earth beneath me and I can come to terms with the passing of each day. Once I find the rhythm then I can come to my feet again. I apologize for my lack of correspondence. I apologize for not picking up the phone.
Everything has been well here, but the ending of summer has me anxious again. I fear what the autumn may bring (or, more appropriately, what it may send away). I will miss my spare hours. I worry that his love for me will fade when the textbooks drain the color from my cheeks. The leaves here are already dead and crinkled on the ground. What does that leave for October?
I spent the evening alone in my apartment. Sat at the dining room table and had an argument with myself in regards to my eating and drinking habits. I never win in these arguments. I hope your writing is going well. Have you found a publisher or some sort of outlet? You always chided me for storing all my work in the desk drawer, out of public eye. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and become a hypocrite now.
Soon I will be distracted again by disease and disorder. I hope you will understand and be patient with me.
Faded,
-K
