March 1, 1987

I talked to X for about 20 minutes tonight. She says she’s moving to Dallas soon. She told me she’d write me “this week.”

“One day you’ll move away,” I said, “and you’ll forget to send me your address, and we’ll lose touch for good.”

“That can’t happen. I’ve got your address. I always let everyone know when I move.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, and even longer since we had any time together.

It’s been so long. Her voice. Making her laugh. We’ll see if I see her again someday.

“She doesn’t know what to do with you,” Anna told me.

She and I have traded more letters than anyone in my life. She says she thinks about me sometimes.