Margo, time got away from me. I’m sorry. I believe I still love you, but I don’t know—certainty got away from me as well. I hope you can wait, but I don’t expect it.
I’m okay in this moment as I squat here beside this palm tree.
There are things I have to do before I can return. I want you to understand that, but again, I don’t expect it. My god, I’m so far away from everything and everyone I’ve ever known.
There are many people here and everywhere, like me—lost. I’m doing what I can for myself and for them. I never would’ve imagined any of this. Maybe I’ll finally be whole. Well, not really. We both know we’re not here to be whole, whatever the hell that means. We just try our best, eh?
Ha, I can hear your laughter right now, and I miss it.
I’ve done a lot since I last saw you, most of which I wouldn’t have thought I could or would do, not ever. And there’s that horrifying thing I did before I met you. I wonder if Mick has told you about it. I can’t. Not here, not now. I hid it, even from myself. How is that possible? How many people hide things from themselves, and don’t know it—even live out their lives without ever knowing?
So, I’m on this beach by this palm tree—waiting.
Stella’s Greta is with me, keeping me focused. She’s beautiful and innocent.
Stella did love her. I know that now. It sounds crazy, but it’s true.
Margo, what I hid from both of us blew me wide open when I discovered it. I fell to pieces, which is why I left and why I’m not there with you—soon perhaps, if you will have me. I’m different now, and so probably are you. Maybe we will still love each other, maybe more than ever, maybe not at all. I don’t know.
I’m looking at the ocean as I squat here and wait. It’s calm, and captivating. Hard to believe that just a few days ago it raged.
Now there is so much destruction and despair.
The good and the God-awful have emerged full force.
I’ve picked a side and, if you know me at all, you know which side I’ve picked.
I see you smiling.
I have to go.
I hope I can get this out—and that it reaches you.