Update: to life and liking and other missing parts of my previous caption
Ah, it's so bittersweet to sit with this feeling. I spoke to him properly yesterday, beyond the surface level hope-you're-good-wherever-you-are. It had been a while. The conversation was neutral: mostly about work, my CV, spring and the scary EU geopolitical tension. Yet it was so lovely to see him again, with his tape dispensers and ceiling fan and the cherry blossom tree outside. Happy to know that he was doing well, enjoying work and having 850 of his best friends who send him Happy Monday stickers around. That pink sweater, just like with a lunchbox in the sunshine outside the library many many moons ago. I think all that warmth and affection came rushing back. It made my day to hear about my writing like that; not only that I am a good writer and I should go deeper but that he would be grateful if he could write like that and that I should be proud. Felt more genuine that way? Maybe I am reading too much into it. Old habits. I am happy he is still around, I am happy to kno...
