Dearest albino ape,

I hope you’re eating more than just canned soup, tofu and ham. I’m sure you’ll learn how to throw extravagant banquets out of kimchi and ramen to invite your future quadrilateral of friends.

I’m stumbling on your stray letters. They echo my footsteps tonight. “Boys are tiresome, I should have loved only you instead.” I’m learning to trust myself again. I don’t know if this is wise but it feels alright. The hollows of this city feel different now and so are the faces. I thought I missed this place but it isn’t the same place that I left. Or perhaps I am no longer the same person who had fled in that taxi leaving a flurry of hasty goodbyes. You’ll feel it too. I’ve notes for future adventures to burrow deep into this island with you when you come back. We’re going to have to find a new sanctuary out of this campus soon. Right now the ony thing worth burrowing into is books! Go go deforestation!

For now, long-distance calls and insomnia are a blessing. If we’re on the same island, we’d be caught up in our plans and see each other less and less.

I don’t miss you much, not really. I’m glad you’re here on this digital plane.

With love,