2001:July:10
2001
Dear L.
We laugh sometimes. We laugh harder than ever at the simplest things. Two grown faces hacking and wheezing at some thing we don't even have to mention. We're good for that.
We rode bicycles around the lake and I watched three children laughing and laughing at swinging. I missed it so I said so. Getting older is an absolute downer. You said nonsense. You said we still laugh like a son of a bitch. Yeah, you're right. The punchline's just personal now. Comprised of fear and insecurities.
Remember the bikeride we took on our last vacation, L? Around and around the man made pond. It was 11 and the stars and palm fronds and banana trees did some shit together that made us feel like we really were on vacation. We talked about people we loved like breathing. I told you that I had had three soulmates already. You said there was only one allowed, thought about it for a second, and then said, Ok, maybe two. Anyway, to hell with them, right?
We could see the back of his house. The way the lights we left on went out one after the other. The wind picked up as we rode around and around storing the air of our birth state deep in our lungs and we listened to our voices until we could not take it anymore.
Love, K
