August 10, 2023

Sometimes I think my lack of Russian really gets in the way of me communicating deeply, even when I can translate my thoughts. I feel like I filter myself for some reason. I want to ask you what your friend's life is like, why you want to write her biography, why you haven't told her you're writing it, when you plan to finish and share it. All of these things, but when I think about responding something keeps me from forming the sentences even in English. Maybe I'll write you a short letter every night while you're asleep, when I feel I'm a little alone again and I'm free to roam around my mind while you roam around your dreams. It really does feel like a different time and place once I begin to wait for you to wake up and respond. Sometimes I'm a little intimidated by you too, to be honest. And of course I like that. A lot.

Thank you so much for telling me the history of A. and A. Not only do I know a bit more about her, but about your history too. And the way you write shows me just as much as your personality as what you write. I fall a bit more for you every time you share about yourself, it's like a magnetic attraction that turns all of me in your direction. 

From your shared traumas it seems you've been able to build a bond that many people hope to have in life. I'm glad for both of you. When I come to Belarus I hope I can meet this person and be fluent enough to converse and understand what makes them so unique. I hope I may also read the biography one day, your writing is vividly captivating.

If you share with me an address, I'll write you a letter in both English and Russian. I want to hold something of yours too, something real. It's a strange feeling to miss someone you've never met.