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Love letter

Written in


So he, she, they are gone.

They are probably loving you somewhere and having a good time anyway. It is what it is and there is really no need to fret on that too much. You wouldn’t like for them to be bitter or anxious. You, after all, love them. So swallow that bittersweet pill and enjoy it. It helps with the next step. Because you need to remember that, above anything else, the small things that matter will remain and the small things that do not will wither in obscurity. It is important to confirm these weird, abstract convictions before anything else on the list.

Now, after you get that handled, stand up. Stretch your legs and find a good space to move around. Your office, a park, a plaza, a cave, that space in-between the two rows of seats inside of a not-so-crowded bus. As long as you can keep it personal, you do you. People around you do not care about that person you love or what you do to remember them; they are too busy missing their own ghosts. You will be fine.

If everything keeps running smoothly, you now need to choose a song. I am a sucker for Ella and Louis singing the blues like there is no tomorrow, but if you need to play Rhiannon, or maybe something by Ian Dury, be it Wake up and make love to me or Sex, drugs and rock and roll, it is all perfectly plausible. Play whatever shakes your melancholic soul.

The next steps will all happen in a matter of five to seven minutes.

Start by wandering around inside your mind. Use your hands to trace their silhouette in front of you, and measure their height by remembering the last time you hold their face before you kissed them. That will help you get a grip of where their neck and the start of their hairline stand in the air around you. You will look as though you are dancing, in a very weird way. Sometimes sensually, but it is not a given, so do not give it too much thought. Focus on the hands.

After a while, and if you like to dance, your feet will go along. If you don’t like to dance, sway them a bit anyway, and take some steps back and forth, just like those times when you would link hands and try not to fall, while getting used to stumble on that ridiculous pas de deux of lovers, through a strange city on a misty night.

The memories will reel and you will remember why you miss them. I would recommend to close your eyes, and to imagine telling them, “I listened to this song once, and it reminded me of you, and I danced a little bit like this while remembering you”. It could become very intimate, very fast.

Seven minutes top, like that song by Ella. Too much of a thing is never good. Go on with your life. Miss them tomorrow. Do something in between. Make them proud, make yourself proud. If all of this fails, buy an airplane ticket.

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