- - -
From 2010, 9:56 p.m.
"As I write this, my eyes keep trailing to the dried and spiky cuticles along my fingers. They form a stubborn fringe at the base of each nail. It's so tempting to pick at them. But then I can almost hear him say, 'Baby stop,' and just that alone makes me miss him so much. I don't have anyone else in New York who cares about the scratchy state of my finger flesh. A concern like that, though little, is so specific -- so particular to us -- that I find it all the more dear."- - -
It's just past Thanksgiving now. I've been unpacking for the last hour and in a folder marked with a big green "B," I came across the following letter from Drew around the same time that I had journaled the snippet above.
I am thankful for the 22 months we've spent together.
Happy anniversary, from P. to Bear!
