Writing Marie

I told in my previous post about getting the address of Marie, my old girlfriend from college. And I said I want to write her.

Why? Not to rekindle a romance. I don't have any romances going right now, and while occasionally -- rarely -- I miss the sex, I really, really don't miss subordinating my whole life to the other person. Maybe there is a way to be in a romance without falling back into bad habits, but I never learned it.

But I don't have a lot of friends. Mostly this doesn't make me feel lonely, because I am fine with my own company (and yours). And of course there are plenty of people at work with whom I get on affably. But friends with whom I can talk about what is going on with me and expect to be understood? Not a lot of those. Not sure I have any of those, really, at the moment. And it has always been a very short list.

So what I hope for -- in the best case -- is that maybe Marie and I, after all these years, can succeed in being "just friends", with the emphasis on the positive fact of friendship rather than on the negative restrictions of just. Maybe the fact that we have known each other for so long -- together with the fact that she must surely by now have made whatever other romantic arrangements she is going to make (since I've been long out of the picture) -- means that we can be friends for each other in the best way. Maybe. I guess we'll see.

Of course, she might not want to hear from me. Or the address might be out of date. Or a hundred other things might spoil my fantasy plans. All true. On the other hand: nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Here is what I wrote this morning. I'm going to post it as soon as I finish recopying it here.

Dear Marie,

Last week Son 2 and I visited the Schmidts for a couple of days. We had spent the week visiting colleges which might interest him, and found ourselves in that corner of the state with time to spare. It was a pleasant visit -- the first time we'd been there in 12 years, when Son 2 was only 5. So we chatted about farming and the Hitchhiker's Guide, clambered around some of the local scenic wonders, and allowed Ma Schmidt to overfeed us.

During the conversation, Ma Schmidt remarked that they see you from time to time, so on the spur of the moment I asked for your address. Schmidt gave me this one, with the proviso that it might be out of date; and of course for my own part I realize there could be any number of reasons that you might not have the time to write back. So this note is a bit of a shot in the dark. Still, I'd love to know how you are doing.

The telegraphic version of my own news runs something like this, I guess. I'm still in Beautiful City (as you can see from the return address); I'm still working in [the same old field]; Son 1 is starting his sophomore year at college in the next state over; and Son 2 is starting his senior year at Durmstrang. There's more, of course -- when was I ever at a loss for writing more? -- but I'll let it wait until I know whether this is the right address. Also it depends how much you are interested in.

I hope this finds you well and happy. And I do hope to hear from you.

All the best, now and ever,
Hosea