An epistilary relationship with her while she lives in Chicago?
Ho-ly shit.
Two letters of hers within two days of each other. The paper magic, I tell you. I can tell she doesn’t take them for granted. She didn’t have to say at all how much she loved it whenever an envelope showed up at her door.
And then Guadalupe Vidal on “Project Runway”. . . I can’t not stare at her every second of screen time because of how much she reminds me of the girl I met five years ago, the short hair, showing me pictures of her longgone dad, the tint of the Kodak matte reminding me of Vietnam for some reason.
Chicago Girl knows how I feel. She has to. But she needs a friend like this more than anything. She’s alone up there under parts of the welkin that don’t shine so bright this time of year.
So if it’s envelopes and stamps for now, then that’s what you’ll be.

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