Dear Jess Okay. Not only are the chances that you ever see this low, but it’s also a good bet that I delete this the minute I finish writing it. So I’ll try to get to the point. I love you. Hmmmm. When it’s written like that you realize why classic songwriters and poets often relate the word “fool” to that phrase. “I love you.” It really feels….foolish. I met you at work in 2018. Almost 8 years ago as of this writing. First thought? “She’s cute.” My first memory is of talking to you at that island in the kitchen. I think you were wearing jeans. Standing upright, hands on the island counter. Feet together. Smiling. Yes, dimples. I’m sure this memory is an amalgam of many kitchen meetings. But it’s been condensed into one memory. Love at first sight? No. Just “She’s cute”. My next memory? The Christmas party. I call this our second meeting. Though again I’m sure we’d met & talked numerous times before that. Before that night you were just the “She’s cute” girl from Philly who lived in Australia for a while. My memory of the Christmas party is us talking about movies. It seemed like hours even though it also seemed to pass in seconds, corny as that sounds. Was I leaning on some sort of structural beam at that bar? I know I was trying to look casual. You were talking and listening and smiling. And most of all, looking right at me. Which bought up a question. Why? Why is this lovely woman, co-worker, American but a world traveler, who is clearly smart and a movie fan, but also just so beautiful, spending so much time and focus on me? It really didn’t make sense to me. Even if you don’t have any romantic feelings for me I still don’t understand your clearly real, and caring friendship for me. Not that I don’t have friends or people who enjoy my company. I have my moments. But I’m annoying. I’m old (compared to you as you found out a few years later at that magical bluegrass show). I don’t think I’m an ogre but I’m also not someone whose physical charms command a room. I think I make a good first impression. But it usually tapers off after that. Romantic or not. People get get fed up with me. I get fed up with myself. It didn’t taper off. Is she a saint? Is this some gracious act of charity? Movie Club, Yoga, then Covid. Zoom Movie Club, Zoom Yoga and best of all the texts. “Wanna meet up at for a bagel?” Me? Meet you? Jess? For a bagel? During a pandemic? Uh….yeah. The rest is a blur. A six year blur. Movies. Cocktails. Candy shop. Silent disco. Pier 17. Live Music. The roof top. The talk on the roof. 2024? If you stole my heart at the 2018 Christmas party, you stole my soul on the roof of your building that night. You shared your darker side. Your vulnerability. Maybe you thought it would scare me away. It had the opposite effect. I have many feelings for you. Romantic. Paternal. Sibling. I’m also very attracted to you so it’s all confusing. But that night I both fell in love with you more deeply AND I got terrified. Because of my family’s history your dark side fills me with a bit of dread. Let me I interrupt this love letter to say clearly. Please do not hurt yourself. Please. Not just because it would make it hard for me to go on. But because as someone who’s at the very least seen how painful life can be. You must know that it really does change. It always does. The pain goes away. The pain goes away. Eventually. Okay. Back to my fools song. Did I say I love you? I really think I do. I hope it’s not a burden. I wanna be clear again. You owe me NOTHING. Falling in love with someone should really have little or no bearing on the beloved in my opinion. Of course it does. But it shouldn’t. You owe me nothing. I’m in YOUR debt. Even if this letter ends our friendship (hope not!) I need you to know that in many ways our relationship has sort of saved my life. As you know my younger daughter Ruby died in 2016. I buried myself in work. My wife sort of stopped working. Her & I dealt with the grief in differnt ways. I wrote some songs about it which also helps. But here’s my thing. I’ve had people die in my life. The ONLY way I’ve moved on is forward. Not forgetting the passed loved one but having something else to focus on beside their death. Basketball was that for me. I think it’s why this Knicks run feels really special to me. When my Dad died at 50 I was just 20 and living at home. Still a teenager in many ways. A kid. After he died, for at least the next year or so, I got up every morning and went down to the basketball courts at Riverside Park and shot baskets for almost two hours every day. I had played basketball with my dad a bit. He wasn’t a huge fan. But he liked it enough to excite my younger brother and I about it. But after he died it became the way for me to physically grieve. To put the energy of my grief (that may sound strange but I view grief as an energy) into something physical. Something positive. Something to look forward to. I looked forward to playing basketball. It both reminded me of my Dad but it was also something new I could concentrate on. You Jess, or at least my fascination with you, was something for me to look forward to. Something new and life affirming to get my mind moving forward again. And then, as I got to know you more and we became true friends, your ambition and love of music & movies along with your insecurities and dark thoughts that you felt safe enough to share with me reminded me of my lovely daughter. I hope it’s not too weird to put that connection into words in the context of a letter confessing my romantic love for you. I compartmentalize the different feelings I have for you. As a work colleague. As a friend. As a muse. And as an object of my desire. They are all sort of separate. So when I found you might have some (hopefully just SOME) traits that remind me of Ruby I hope you know that these separate images I have of you are indeed that. Separate. They only overlap in the sense that you seem to embody so many conflicting places in my life. You also remind me of my Mom a bit too if that makes it any better. (Doubtful. Ha!) You simply contain multitudes! Or I project multitudes onto you? Like onto a Cloud. (Ha!) What I’m trying to say is that I care about you in so many ways now. And I hope I don’t let my attraction to you cloud (again!) my true and real concern for your well being. I’m babbling. Which is fine. Since I’ll never show this to you. But if I drop dead and my wife or someone finds this letter in my data and shows it to you. Just know this. For close to a decade you’ve been a shinning light in my life. You’ve truly helped heal me, as much as I can be healed. You’re beautiful, both inside and out. You’re a caring and trusting friend. You’re a talented and loving creative person. You’re a focused and sensitive film fan. I would love to endlessly stare into everything from fire to end credits with you for eternity. But just talking to you and hanging out with you will have to suffice if that’s the best we’ll ever have to offer each other. That’s it. There’s more I want to say but I also want to learn to shut up and listen more. So I’m gonna shut up and listen to your imaginary responses to the letter. Which I’m sure will contain multitudes. Love, B