The feelings you still invoke surprise me from time to time. Remembering things I shouldn't make me feel happy and at peace: hoping that I'm not as damaged as I thought I would be. No wonder I adore talking to your brother. No wonder I felt compelled to greet your father. No matter how informal, I still get nervous: nervous that you'll know, nervous of impressions, nervous of reconnection. I loved you, not anymore. Yet, I can't deny - I won't - that I adore the life I had with you. I loved what you did for me, no matter how austere or ostentatious. I loved the love you gave me, or pretended to give me. I'm not sure, and I'm not sure I care.
I think the universe wants us to reconnect.
I think others might have the same wish.
I think I'll be conservative, for once, and sleep with guilt, or lack thereof.
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