Anna and the Knowing

My dear Anol,

You are as quiet as your name. I keep wanting to compare you to my balsam flowers, do you know that?

I am leaving, and you should too. "Life's meaning is in coming and going"—that line of Lata's keeps echoing in my mind today. Isn't that what life is, after all? The arriving and the departing? Everyone must go.

I truly believe I'll find you again in the next life. We'll write together then, perhaps—or you'll sit at the table in your white shirt, writing, while I stand beside you with my arms around your neck. How does that sound?

Until then, why don't we each live our solitary lives? I love you, and I may love you again in the time ahead; I don't think I'll be able to stop myself.

Be well, you—the key to all my fortune.