I have too often seen you at sad airports. I caught your eye as I left and saw for a moment my old friend, the one with the somber eyes and heavy heart.
You couldn’t have known what I was going through. You gave me a good home and a safe place to find myself. And I did, in a lot of ways. You couldn’t be there how I needed. Not because of any lack on your part, but simply because of me.
I am grateful for our trashy days on random city streets. We were always best at three in the morning, when the light was fresh and the air was cold at our feet. We will always remain that way in my mind.
Your biggest and most sincere admirer,
I’m bringing epistolary back (yeah!). I have no idea if this is done much in short and/or flash fiction, but it will be now (at least, in my writing). I love letter writing form because it is intimate and satisfies the voyeuristic tendencies in us all.