So, you gladly obliged. Of course, you asked me for stamps and if I had any envelopes.
Audrey and I sat and read your letters together. This particular one starts with the English word "hello" written in Korean characters which I'd learned how to read. I'm rereading it now. It's written from Portland Oregon. You say it's probably your favorite US city you've been to despite the gloominess and that you want to take Audrey and me there. The letter is continued in Vancouver where you write about how I almost applied to graduate school there when we first met, and how things could've ended up so differently. In Seattle you tell me that in Vancouver you'd seen a homeless woman that looked exactly like me.
"I thought, I swear I saw you, so I quickly went to our dressing room to get food, water, orange juice, but by the time I got back she was gone. I ended up giving it to another homeless person. I know it's plain silliness, but it felt like sliding doors- that movie."
But back to the part of the letter my eyes fell on as I opened my underwear drawer this morning. The end:
"I miss you. I wish you guys could see whatever I'm seeing. Pictures don't do it justice. Love you, love you so much."
I want to believe that was a message from the plane outside of space and time where you are now. It is certainly beyond any earthly representation.