By Jane Barnes
Dear Laura,
We never said goodbye in person. I haven’t seen you in 28 years. I learned via the internet that you are in San Francisco. I’m post-stroke and 82.
I picture you bent over your guitar with that long blond hair. I was too old for you. We lasted for nine years. I had depression. You needed someone your age. Did it last with the Latina woman?
Thanks for the writing support. You are beautiful. I made you a trophy wife. I should have been with a reader. But you were a wonderful musician! Keep singing; voices don’t age.
We did the best we could. I’ll always treasure our yellow house and you’re in everything that I write.
Love,
Jane
Jane Barnes, NYC, U.S., happily bisexual.
