Dear Rachel, my family moved into this house
some fifteen years ago. I had yet to be born,
and I was still only just a hazy notion of life. Now,
looking around at the dull green tiles beneath my belly
in the kitchen, I don't think I could have lived
anywhere else. These muted ceramic squares
have a way of making me feel as if I've always
been here, and yet still am a hazy, fifteen year old notion
of life. I should have shown you the tiles when we spoke;
it was hard, with a kitten on my lap. The kittens are bigger now,
more fluff than kitten, really. I think they might
have gotten along with your dogs
if your dogs had five minutes in their day
to give to them. Which they'd always do, they'd give
you their whole day if you wanted. They love you, but I hope
you know that however much anyone else loves you,
it will pale in comparison to how much you are loved
once you learn to love yourself. I'm laying on the tiles
as I write this letter, and I suppose
that everyone has their own tiles
or something that gives them their sense
of place. I hope you have that too. It would
be very sad to live in full realization of existence
instead, these tiles keep me as a thought. But
you have your father, don’t you? And how great a difference
there is between one friend and none, even just
in your own family. I think it’s very right, that he should speak
better Spanish, even though he is Greek - it’s always hard
to say something in your native tongue, then it could be real!
Perhaps that’s why I can’t just get to the point, but I’ll try
to tell you of my adventure so that I can pretend to at least have said
something: I took a walk yesterday down the road and the hills
seemed so large and still, as if they had sat down
just to rest and were kept there. The trees cut their outlines
so sharply in dark green against the sky, and the gravel
at the edge of the road crunched beneath my
worn brown hiking boots, and I did not get lost, because it’s no fun
to be lost all alone. I would love to write more,
really, but these tiles are rather cold and I think
I'd really like to try to leave them, and allow my misty, amorphous
body a more tangible grasp at living. Hoping I'm not the reason why
it rained for three days, Lu.