Dear H. We don’t talk much. And that’s ok.

Yesterday, Silence and Stillness – the villains they are – brought their cousin Anxiety along to laugh at my restlessness. She says I’m not worried enough. I disagree. I’m not worried at all.

I found a confidant in Trust, our friendly postman, who has it on good authority you’re doing great, and talked to him of me. He came by with your last postcard, the one with the mountains on it? It spoke a million things, even though it had just “I’m here!” on it.

Lovely H, you remembered. But we don’t talk much, and that’s ok.