Joan (me) with her Darby ( him ). Read the other letters here . Calum, “So like, everything is the same, it’s just… in Russia ?” you said to me about my latest adventure. “Pretty much,” I replied. You said, “That’s well boring.” I’m sorry my big brave life-changing trip isn’t more emotionally traumatic, friend. I’ll try harder to provide you with Skype calls that have a little more erratic feeling next time. Except – not really. Because that’s the thing, you see. Why I adore you. You don’t need me to be in turmoil to love me: you don’t desire drama to feel needed. You have no want to see me in pain or angst so that you can feel better about your own days. And mate, it’s staggering, actually, how many people *do* need those things in a friendship. It marks you as different. But then, I knew you were. I don’t know how many times I have to re-learn that. I haven’t written to you for almost a year , and so it’s important to me, after our cross-country catch-up last week, to tell you: I for...
AMay I join you? I'm having a rather shitty day today.
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