beginnings...

I am in the middle of an epic letter to a friend who lives in France. It occurred to me recently that I procrastinate in sending her the letter because while it is in progress, it is as if I am having a conversation with her. I imagine her reading it and listening - it is comforting to have her "near" - which of course means that when I finally send the letter, I am ending the conversations and effectively "sending" her away as well. It leaves me a bit empty, so instead, it is 3 cards and 5 pages of typing paper long, will probably take her a month to read if I ever send it and I haul it around with me so I can write whenever I get the urge. Perhaps one day I will sever the tie and actually let her enjoy receiving some mail from a good friend.