I sent you an email. I hope it came out articulate enough. I really miss you
1856 Alford Ave, Los Altos, CA 94024.
I’ll be there after May 29.
I have a postcard in my room that I have wanted to send you since January.
Blake Apple Fall. Unknown parentage. Westbrook, ME, before 1869. Medium-large roundish-conic-oblate hard yellow-green cooking and dessert apple with a crowned basin, a bit of faint blush and a dab of russet around the stem. Crisp, juicy, subacid and richly flavored. Will keep until just after New Year’s. Extremely rare. Mentioned in Downing’s classic Fruits and Fruit Trees of America but practically no other references exist. On the facade of one of those beautiful old brick Commercial Street buildings in Portland’s Old Port is a huge painted sign, W.L. Blake & Co Mill & Industrial Supplies. If you’ve been to Standard Bakery or Flatbread Company, you’ve seen it. No one seems to know if W.L. had any relation to the apple. We’re currently scouring the area looking for local specimens with the help of fellow fruit explorer David Buchanan and others. If you’d like to help with the search, or if you might have any information leading to the apprehension of said Blake, please contact Fedco, the FBI or the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Z4-6. ME Grown.
Last night I saw a collaborative dance performance at an artist retreat in Plainfield and the first piece was performed by students from a deaf high school somewhere nearby and it reminded me so much of you I almost started crying. You would have really really enjoyed it.
You keep showing up in my dreams. It’s stressful. Please get out.
I miss your eyes. I miss how I was transparent to you. You looked straight through me to all my knots and snarls and told me to undo them. I miss that.
You weren’t always right, and after thinking it through I would often push back. You looked to me to bring some of your own knots to the surface, though we never ventured to undo them for each other; that was not our purpose. I miss your clarity of heart and sight.
I can’t say I want you back, but I want back your force in my life. I still feel you abandoned me, and while I’ve never needed you, I long wanted you. In any case I don’t want to go back. I want to go forward, but I know neither the words nor the desire to ask you. In all cases I wish you well.
I continue to take from you the idea of commitment. Though we failed with each other I am trying again, now, with someone else. You showed me a new way of looking at people, to see not only their here and now but to close my eyes and trust the unforeseen future. All relationships wane and wax, and have the potential to never be truly lost. With that in mind we are still in each other’s lives, albeit not directly. Your words still flash through my head often: “don’t push.” And with that most often I stop, step away. Like I did from you.
I’m not sure if this is an invitation, but I think I’m ready to love you again. I’m ready for us to come together again, reform our relationship in a way that doesn’t resemble the old one. But I’m also ready to stay away, continue to let you go. I know I have more energy than you for seeking out and untying the hardest knots. I want you to know I’ve learned.