I miss you a bit lately. It’s funny that the last time I wrote anything was this exact day two years ago. It means something, I’m sure. It all does.

I went to Venice on Saturday with my two friends. I was feeling eh and regretting agreeing to go out (it was hot, I hadn’t slept much, I would have been happy to stay home). But then we decided to go west and immediately I said “Venice.” I shaved my legs. I put in my contacts. I picked my outfit. All for that tiny little chance that I might see you.

I parked in the lot near you (I always do). I wonder if you still live there (I didn’t see your car). I wonder if you moved. I wonder if you took that framed print I got you. I wonder if it feels like a burden. I am never not wondering about you. But I haven’t felt the need for you until recently. Maybe the longest stretch since we met. Mostly I think that you’re not really present anymore. But then you’re in so many songs maybe I don’t even realize.

I’m sure you’re fine. There is a fortitude in you. A scrappiness. You will forge ahead. You will make it work. It’s hard for me to picture you being in love but you love being in love so why wouldn’t you have found someone. How many of the other girls in your past do you compare her to? In a few months (January) we will have known each other for ten years. I guess that feels right. Long ago and still too close. Where were you Saturday night? It was late when we walked by where you like to park. Is that still your spot or have you moved on completely?