I am writing you from a far off place, (fiction)

which is usually how this goes. Together, in the flesh, language dissolves between us, our emotions play star wars, we can't get to that sweet spot. Distance brews white flag compatible like sunshine on skin. We take turns speaking and listening, we forgive each other our fractured humanity, let loose those letters lodged behind our eyes and our tongues that do not find space when there are shorter distances separating our bodies. For there are always letters, even in the silence, or else too many or not the right ones. With distance, we can select the right mixture and settle them to ink or text or email, and does this mean we are part-time friends or that we are penpals but not pals or that we were enemies in a past life and have since evolved?

What I need to remember is that it's better, for us, that you are not coming back.