Postcards to a past

Peggy,     Cold, sick, tired.      Then I have two angels with me everyday, caring for me, ok, not fixing chicken soup or anything, just a nice comforting light. I look at her in the morning; I write in the evening, one evening to your ghost; the next to her. Yes, it is a dream, creating how 1969 could have ended: with us, somehow, within something, but just us, something between just us. The dream is of me keeping you safe and alive, healthy and strong, writing and loving (oh not just me, helping to keep your endless compassion).      I have to write to her, well...she is me. She knows I will not dissolve away, I will not stop being her. We are not so much two anymore. I will always be with her. Simple.     I met her in late 1970, on a trip. Even in the dream, you would not have changed how I reacted to being in her presence. In the dream, she would not have stopped my cherishing you, or our attachment to each other...

 Peggy,     "Strange--but the more I know of you, the better I like myself." --- Helen Marshall Maybe this is why your letters have struck my heart so hard, so deeply after such a long time. Your letters showed me...you. A you I had no idea was there. A you that let me show you...me. Not the little boy me everybody thinks I was, the power me, the universal me, dare I say the writer me, the me that wanted nothing but to love, to understand everyone, to know everyone, to know the universe... The me that didn't want to be human, wanted to be humanity... The me that eventually found her...         I loved what you showed me.        I liked that me.

 Peggy,     I have missed you. Yes, I know. It just has been too long between these postcards to your ghost. I am worn out again. It cycles. It is definitely fatigue as I want to cry when I think of you two. Yes, there is always someone else. She has not been with me as long as you. I have nothing of hers as I have of you. I don't want to read your letters, again, because I am afraid they will become more meaninglessness, more useless, more real, more boring. I just want you to show up in my life.