Dear Gilbert,

Dearest G.,
I sometimes find myself thinking of you during the most inopportune moments of my day and my mind and heart only wish to dispossess themselves of the notion that you were ever once here with me. In speaking to a friend as of late, I realized that I thought that expulsing the pain from out of my system and environment, would only serve to sully the innumerable positive, hearth-keeping memories that we once shared together and in secret. I abided by that law, believing that forgetting the pain would only ever serve to dishonor you and the memories we once shared. As it turns out, I was only wrong about the former. I struggled with the downside of that ill, for as long as my mind and spirit could hold it, chin delicately threadded in between my hands as the bitter taste of sea now clouds my eyes and trickles down my cheeks. But I can now say with utmost confidence that though my life has progressed---chaotically--- and at times at risk of leaving that aspect of my past fully to the cosmos, leaving you to conciousness of the Earth and to the haunted house that I have now fully departed from, that I have friends... I have one friend. Who has now shown me everything that a woman must expect from all of it. Everything that a girl could ever dream of in sonnets and in fairytales... Everything that you failed to provide, not because you were weak, or foolish, or even cowardly. But it was because you didn't remain long enough to listen to what I had to say. And through so many challenges, missteps and perceived social mistakes, this person has stayed with me, far longer than you could ever give yourself credit for. This person has seen art out of the cinders that burned for you. This person has remained through my worst days, given me space and not left me when I have acted exhausted or questionably or too enthusiastically. Because I guess that living in the exact same location helps most when trust is formed. Because I suppose that we are making all of the memories that you and I were bound to never have. Do you remember the twilight of two Halloweens past? My favorite Holiday celebration of course, filled with childrens' mirth and laughter and joy and much space for creation and reflection and kindness? Well... I apologize for expressing the following as it may pose a significant risk that you had once accused me of: sounding boastful in connection. I had the best Halloween celebration of my entire life, in a cemetary, with two of the most important people to me, without ever having to beg for connection, or opportunities to learn and to appreciate artistry and to just be. It was a halloween horror night, but no horror abided there, only peace, only passionate artistry, only performance and mutual storycrafting. Only love. I felt beloved in a palace of the dead, no because I too was dead, so you mistook it so, but because in the dead I saw something that resonated so freely in me that I could not bear to leave it be. I saw truth, I saw hope, I saw warmth and compassion and kindness and hope. So much hope. It was not a place of lost dreams to me, of forefathers and ancestors long since gone and passed. It was a place of alchemy, of shared wonder and laughter and learning to find my footing when the ground felt uneven. And the person who was there with me, not in your stead or in your place, but in place of you in heart, someone who now knows me fully enough to not ever once consider to abandon me, that person... This friend. He sees me in ways that are inescapable and inaccesible to you. You lost your chance. I grieved for eight months. And for eight months I waited and waited and waited so. Until I couldn't wait anymore. And when I gave up on the waiting, I found out that this friend had been waiting for me, for this entire time. I didn't have to change, I didn't need to. He doesn't punish me for mistakes or for things that I find imperceptibly confusing. He clarifies, he engages in curiosity and kindness. He asks questions. And he is now my family. He is now my big brother. And he is now someone who not only loves and cares for me in return, but also someone who listens. Truly. Without giving me a time out signal if he senses that there is doubt, or tears or emotionality. He loves me. He loves my family. And because he loves us, he now occupies a place that you can never regain again. I am so sorry for the things that have happened to you, but I am no longer responsable for what you feel or don't feel. I am no longer responsable for the void that you now fill with vices. You lost something valuable. Deeply so. And I now question whether or not I am deserving of grace and goodness because of you, in part. Yet time and time again, I am pleasantly surprised by this friend. I am proven wrong. I am proven so wrong that I am only ever told: "You are right to question and to feel, but you are also wrong about not deserving love, or companionship or connection, and if you'll allow me, I can prove it to you."