Dear Alice,
We talked on the phone last night, and I
missed you so much. Not your physical presence
exactly, I missed your company, of course, but
also I missed you, or at least the person I
know you to be. You talk about work, stress, hanging
out with your boyfriend or smoking pot, and it’s like
whole chunks of you are just missing, spinning
around somewhere in Alice-space, disconnected.
What happened to the girl who convinced her boyfriend
to lick her vibrator, who took a frisbee from a
trashpile, who cajoled me into spending hours sewing
cottonballs into a cloud, who climbed pyramids in
Mexico and took me out shooting for my birthday?
What happened to the Alice that wasn’t afraid? Or is
this just me again, idealizing you? You just
always seemed so self-confident, and I know you
were insecure and uncertain because we all are,
but you went out and did stuff anyways. What
happened to that? You told me about a dream you
had about someone killing a tiger and how upsetting
it was, and all I can think is, that’s a part of
you that’s getting killed off. A really brave
beautiful part of you. And I know I’m not the
best or most supportive friend, and I know I
was a truely awful lover, and I apologize
for that a thousand times over and again.
I was too dense to see or appreciate
that part of you most of the time we were
together, and I’m glad that you found other people
who did. But please don’t let you lose that
part of yourself. It’s too strong, it’s too
brighr and special to let it get submerged or
thrown away. I love you, as of course I always
have, and I want you to be happy, but I also,
selfishly, hope that you’ll keep burning....that
Rudyard Kipling poem....that you’ll keep
writingf, even if I never get to read another thing
you’ve written, that you’ll keep painting, that
you’ll keep occasionaly doing all the crazy Alice
things that no one but you would ever think of.
I Love You Forever,
Shana Maydela