Postcards to a past

 Peggy,     Yes, she did. We walk in the mornings. Yes, we are both morning people, early morning people. Early, early morning. She just said she likes it. Very much. Couldn't get anything else from her. No matter.     Did he finally go home?     And I don't know. I, too, am a passive aggressive guy when forced to face the mirror. But, for me, doing something real isn't...okay, yes, it's part of it, so I don't know if you can label him as one, too. Yes, I remember a few times when you gave us shit for basically turning a woman (someone from school, once, I do remember that) into a well a weak, simple minded fuck doll. At least that's what you let us know that's what we did, like it was drinking water, I believe were your words. I know, walking away from you isn't exactly a resolution or constructive process to a solution. Face me, you said. Talk to me, you said. Look into my eyes and say that, you said. You are the one, the why she and I...

 Peggy,     I never can answer hate. One of the things that I admire about you. I never did talk much, but I liked people who can, with strength, truth, all those ethics we learned in Philosophy 101. At least you didn't hit her. No. No, I could never, too frightening.      Every word is a fire. I'm still working on that one.     Yes, she is much better. I am allowed now to walk with her in the mornings, her strength is quickly coming back, everyday an extra 15-20 minutes. Remember holding hands, in the halls, in the cafeteria, on the grass between wings, it was the greatest act up to that point in our short lives, as far as I was concerned anyway. It feels the same when she and I walk. When we get back to the house, I get her a drink, fix her some toast, an orange, an apple (though she only takes a bite or two), we sit and talk, her mother was there once, didn't say a word. At first, she would take a nap after; the kiss goodbye was ...

 Peggy,     Well, yes I have been writing more lately, evidenced by the frequent postcards, so words have been swirling around in my head. But adjectives (I am a keep it simple kind of person) more than others simply because others have been using them on me a lot lately. We struggle to find new and exciting ones for our pieces, but I absolutely refuse to use them on people. Living breathing humans, I mean. The religious "judge not" thing. Whatever mythology you follow. Yeah, I'm human too, mostly, but just when I get frustrated, angry, lonely and I keep them to myself, at least.     So yeah, I do.     And I don't know what to say, until I met her, I was pretty much up and down or in and out through a relationship. Not enough talking through them all. I can't imagine you not giving though.     Wood is most comfortable for me, walls (inside, brick outside), furniture, cabinets, but that is me.      It wa...

Peggy,     Words come slowly to me, like most things. But I constantly tell my self how much I love words. Not so passionately, at least not like for her; I know, not the same. When I am searching for a word, the process is usually a mountain climbing effort. Welll...I surprise myself a lot of times, though. Give me specifics and I'm more than happy to make the trek. And I do have a couple of synonyms finder books that I resort to every now and then.      Yeah, our reliance on cars... Don't get me started, there are such better ways to get from here to there that don't involve people dying (or nearly dying) in crashes. I know nearly everyone gets in one or more in their lifetimes. That wasn't a comfort.     I am happy to hear about Martha. She was always so nice to me. When you were occupied, and we were in a corner separated from everyone, we had some wonderful conversations about life, love, books, and the universe. She was (is?) a ver...

 Peggy,     Yes, a long time. Sorry. She was in a car accident and spent a few days in the hospital. Family was there constantly, so I had to weave in and out of their presences. I know. I know.     When she called (while in the ER), I listened, too frightened to say much. Well, she talked and I heard the fear, that shaking fear, shaking confusion, shaking uncertainty, the tears, the pain, everything one goes through (yes, I have). And I, too, was so scared I probably didn't say anything helpful. She wouldn't let me come and see her until she was in a room and her family left. I'm not comfortable about her not letting me meet her family. But... I went to see her early the next morning. All we could do was hold on to each other. It was terrible, and wonderful, and overwhelming. She will be fine. Very lucky. So I have been going in the mornings before work, had to wait one morning because her brother was there, so kind of hid until he left. Went back a f...