Dearest secret friend,
Today, I was walking in a park through the finest greenery my eyes have seen in weeks, when my thoughts moved from merely enjoying my surroundings to thinking of you. It was then I realized I missed you.
You and I have walked that trail before on numerous occasions. I say numerous instead of countless because we probably could count the number of times we have walked it. I suppose that is what made me think of you in the first place. The small number of times brought the memory to mind. The association the mind makes between person and place always interests me. On occasion I am saddened by whichever memory it is, other times I am made glad, but either time I am entertained and taken out of the present with its own worries to a different place. That place is not the past, but a mixture of then and now; it always gives me a new perspective on today. I suppose that is the point of memories.
I was thinking about you and I wished you were with me, not because I was lonely -it was not that- it was because I wished you could experience what I was seeing and how I was seeing: The way the light was showing through the trees.
There is a rock. I hate it. But I love it as well. I find it incredible how we can hate and love at the same time. You know, dear friend, I think human beings are the only domicile in the universe where such real feelings of hatred and love coexist in such contradiction. Well, just the living ones anyway; the dead ones either hate or love, they can't and don't do both.
I love love and hate. They can be nouns and verbs and adjectives and more. That's so cool.
Cool. Yeah. Like you.
PS. (I could not summon up a picture of a forest or a rock, so this picture of the unfinished Ryugyong Hotel will have to do.)
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