Communicating back and forth with each other, and lately, by email. Such a nice feeling; knowing even when he's so tired, he looks forward to hearing from me and that he takes the time to write--so beautifully too! He's so far and yet so near. And so I wrote again. And so he replied again...

Dear C...knee deep in work at the moment. Reading my notes one by one, writing with one hand, and with the other checking my email every five minutes, until, yes, until three this morning, when my eyes would not operate any longer, my pen was scribbling across the pages, and I decided to go mercifully to bed...I checked one last time, and, yes, there was what I was waiting for, a message from you. I couldn't believe my good fortune, the blood was pelting, my heart was beating faster and I opened your lovely message...

I could have written massage, and it would still have been "le mot juste"...a massage of the mind and heart, a message for tired eyes...and I read it, so hungrily, I did not tear through it. It was like a really, really nice bottle of Barbera Superiore, it has to breathe and in breathing, it mellows out, and so it was with your letter. There were so many subtleties of taste, (like your lips...) so many layers of loveliness (like your body...) so many hidden valleys where no man is king. I could not take enough time reading it. But I did, once, and then twice...and then I closed my eyes, and saw you...and then I went to bed...

and now, now I will write, even though it is so early in the morning, and I am on my way to work. I want you to have this first thing...More later, love...
Love, J.
And so I wait...