#23 May 9, 2021

Dear Mike,

It's 11a.m. and the cold and bitter rain has not relented since midnight.  

I am putting together my list of daily habits.

And I've decided to start working on a book.  I'm super excited about this project.  Wish me luck!

It will on the subject of homeschooling and will follow the Usbourne Encyclopedia of World History which represents history in a chronological perspective.

It's Mother's Day Mike and I'm so incredibly ambivalent.  It's painful to go back there with all the trust of a child.  All the need to be loved.  All the expectations of belonging.  

Let that all fall into the shadows and into the darkness, that utter vulnerability that would have believed anything, yet was given nothing to cling onto.  That void.  The emptiness.  That promise unfulfilled.  And at the heart of it, that betrayal.  

That was you.  That was me.

You said that you let it go.

Mine is spectre that looms over me threatening to break through the boundaries that I forged.  

What fortitude have I Mike?  

Even with daily struggle towards wisdom everyday, the miniscule of that which I could understand.  Just trying, just grappling to get a sense of it.  

My best friend, Steve, that wasn't you or I, he loved me unconditionally.  And it was the world because I could be ugly.  Every ugliness that defined the word ugly.

And yet he never abandoned me.

So being your friend, that is what I have to offer.  

I know that I do know you well enough to love you.  And we but see shadows of each other.  

Still.

I can take that leap and be fully vested.  Not that I am an enterprise.  

Not that I  am anything other than as you see me.