To L with Love

Give me a moment to gather my thoughts please.
What was I going to tell you?
Oh yea, let me start with where I am.
I am sitting here in my small north-west facing study which has a view, through the twigs of two cypresses in their 50s, of the radiance of the setting sun on the neighbour's tiled roof. I had the window open to let the breeze in, the kind of warm breeze you would expect in the spring of the Northern Hemisphere where we grew up. It is kinda summery in mid August in Sydney. I could almost go jogging in my black singlet and shorts and a pair of ray-ban on my face. But you know I never wear glasses. I have the most perfect eyesight in the world and a small nose that is not engineered for the average sunnies on sale in a Caucasian city. It took me a good while to find a suitable pair. You know the kind that would not slip down my face for want of a supportive nose...emm.. before I go astray in my narcissism, I must remind myself "this is not about me".

So I am sitting here and writing to you except that neither is this about you since you are non-existent, that is, you existed before, you lived, you left, you went away, you escaped, you deserted, you disappeared, you were taken away, evicted, extinguished...and don't bring me to explain any further.

The question is how did it happen to you and why you of all people? You put up a poster of Godfather III in your bedroom. You slept with Al Pacino staring down at you with his palms closed and face aggrieved for god knows how many nights. You met his eyes pondering the truth of those words - the same thing I did when I took a break from the rest of this distressed and pathetic family that you left behind. I could not escape his gaze. And the message contained in those words of his I could not help but notice. It was very kind of you to send me that private message. Thank you. It made me feel less bad for a split second. Later, I escorted a van to the top of a deforested hill where the southeast wind blew away some of your trails. I thought to myself that it was quite unnecessary that I had to perform this role. I always preferred a milder confrontation with the reality as you knew too well. I liked being left alone or with one or two friends. You know we had good fun the other summer cooking with your best mate, don't you. And I was sorry that I could not make it to the party at the water-theme park. I really had to be left alone that day. If I knew that you were going to leave, I'd have been there even if I had to stay away from the water. That would be funny because you and everybody else would be thinking that I was out of my mind. Of course, by the time I was at the hilltop, none of this was your concern anymore. But I knew for certain that you would've cared about what I thought, and I you.