K,

I’m reminded of a cheesy old song when I say “it had to be you.”

Well, last night it didn’t have to be, but I’m glad that it was you on the other end, amidst red wine and old persons around me comparing arthritic conditions and the extents of rising blood pressures, amidst all the crap I needed to get off my own chest while still appearing happy for the sake of a father’s birthday.

Thank you for the gift of your time. What was said has gone undeleted, but I find myself fearful of looking back, for there were probably things discussed that were a little more revealing for our own good.

It was fun, though, in that childishly emo and cathartic kind of way. And yes, of course we’ll get together before I leave. I don’t break pinky promises either.

Take care, K.

M.