11 November 2013
Dear T. —
I don’t know how we found each other, but somewhere along the connections of the interwebs, we fell into proximity. I don’t know why I emailed you at first, but I think I just had questions about who you were and why your words were so beautiful. I don’t know what made you want to keep a daily log of our letters, and why you invited me to complete this project with you, but I think I knew that I had something that needed to be said.
I don’t know how you can be so open and still so afraid, while I have courage and limits, and I don’t know why we temper each other so well, but I think we do. I don’t know how you have such patience with me when I don’t always write as honest letters as you do, but it makes me want to write to you even more. I don’t know how I can make up for the privilege in my life without sounding righteous, and I don’t know how to become something more than the product of my experiences, but I know that I want to be more.
I don’t know how you see so many things that I miss, but I will keep looking. I don’t know how you find the words that I can’t, but it makes me keep trying. I don’t know why I’m here and you’re there, except to know that we are all thrown into this life, and spend the rest of our time navigating the results of the first choice we never made. I don’t know how to do my gifts justice, but I think you’re helping me to figure it out.
I don’t know why friendship happens, except that a certain element of things comes together. I don’t know how the world happens, except that the phase before creation is ultimate possibility. I don’t know how to deserve what I have been given except to work hard to make even more possible. I don’t know if I achieve that all the time, but I hope the intention counts.
I don’t know how to speak when it’s hard to find the words, and I don’t know how to make the words come more easily. I don’t know how to be vulnerable all the time, especially not when people are watching. I don’t know how to express gratitude with humility, because it always sounds like boasting. I don’t know how I got here, but I’m going to keep going, one foot at a time along the path. I’m thankful you’re walking with me.