Dear beloved friend and cousin, E.,
I’m writing from a family restaurant in the east side of Tokyo, where I came to grab a quick light dinner and a ton of coffee. Truth to be told, I woke up feeling dizzy today, but I powered through the day somehow. To relax and blow out some steam, I decided to spend some time drawing. I don’t know why I chose that particular activity, especially when you consider how bad of a painter I am (in school, I used to borrow my older sister’s drawings for my art class). Be that as it may, I got my coffee, I sat down and, following a video-tutorial from Disney Studios, I ended up drawing a couple of Minnie Mouse versions.
I was thinking of you the entire time. Probably because you threw that fairy tale wedding, where you looked like a Disney Princess, now subconsciously, in my mind, every Disney character is somehow related to you.
Thinking about it, I am very glad that we had time to talk last time we met. It has been almost five years now. Time flies. I still remember with how much anticipation we used to wait for you summer visit and how sad and melancholic we became when you left to go back. Everyone dealt with it in their own way. I used to climb into trees and felt like some sort of adventurer. Our granddad insisted that we stay closer to each-other, cause he knew that way we would feel that even though you left, there is still something left behind. And that you would come back, so we had something to look forward to.
You were half right about why I jumped out of the car so quickly that last day we met, when you fiancée was driving us. You said that I didn’t want a long goodbye, cause I didn’t want to make you too emotional. That’s half the truth. The other half is that I didn’t want to make myself too emotional either. In my heart I already carry the pain of a million goodbyes.
To circle back to the main point, tonight in Tokyo, I drew Minnie, thought of you and sent many well wishes in your direction. Hope you are doing fine. Say hello to your brothers and sister for me.
Love always,
Mr. Moon