Dear Person I Don’t Know,

Please believe me when I say that you and I are one. We eat the same food, drink the same wine, hum the same tunes under our breath. Remember when the window came down suddenly and crushed your finger the other day? We both say Mother Fucker when that happens. Listen to me: I happen to know that you experience, as I do, transcendent happiness watching someone run for a bus. When it’s time to say goodbye you try to pretend that you’re going to see the other person in a little while. Then you’re able to leave without saying goodbye, or kissing. For some reason we prefer things this way. Wide streets are vertiginous for me. And for you! Neither of us feels any guilt about stealing books from friends.

Nothing is as soothing as spaghetti, for us. We expect to take short showers, but never can. We like it when we’re somewhere we can’t understand what anyone else is saying. We are jealous of the people who work in shipping stores, and as baseball scouts. It’s difficult to keep driving past motels.

I could go on, but I know you're busy, and easily bored. And I know you believe me. How could it be otherwise? Yes, you are me and I am you. Love me. Do what I want you to do.

Yours, etc.

First day of school, darlings. Why wasn’t there more to do? Henry got dressed and I put a snack in his knapsack and that was it. John got in his stroller wearing a headlamp on his head, but for some reason my parents always get the kids headlamps, and Henry wasn’t bothered by this. He's used to headlamps.

I forced my way into the classroom, to see Henry’s cubby, but Henry still managed to run off without giving me a kiss. I understand. Sob. He sat next to his best friend from last year, and John and I retreated to the hall, which was mobbed with parents. I peeked through the classroom window to give Henry a crazy I’m your Mommy! wave and smile, which he graciously ignored, but was basically shouldered aside by one of the dads, who was taking a series of photographs. Now give me studious, more, more, yes, that’s it, all right, now pretend you don’t even notice me, you don’t notice your dad standing by the window taking thirty million pictures of you, perfect! Now hold that for a minute.

I can’t wait to pick him up and ask him questions and get evasive answers about everything. I mean it! I can’t wait.