Writing them to you feels like the time we used to write these elaborate emails to each other with A. And you have the same first name. But you are not the same. You are challenging me, and this time around, I am taking the challenge seriously. I’m not letting this pass me by. You are wonderful, more than you realize. I love that you love dance, and you read IBS, and are curious about the world. I love that you don’t get dazzled by my emails, and meet me right where I’m at. That you know what it means to write things that are hard to write. You take them and process them, and respond with wit and grace and love. I wish you were living in Berlin. I’d never let go.