You played your tragedy well and you taught me so much about appearances. We shifted our shapes in the wilderness and I remember it was then when I hugged you that you seemed so artistic and motherly to me. What we created was a new “me”. How is your son? Do you still direct? You put me on your stage and I have been performing on another sort ever since. The lines you taught me were ones of affirmation, not simple portrayal. I wanted to be as consummately cool as you.
I think of you whenever I feel not like myself—for better and worse. You came to me at a point in my life when I was needing to learn how to wear a mask. I hope you continue to share your gift and I hope you know I stopped talking to you because things got thick. You still intimidate and provoke me, alluring in your gaze—the only part of you that would remain truthful. Artifice is a great art and expression is freedom. Thank-you, liberator, for liberating me. Never would I reveal my entire self unless you would reveal the entirety of yours. Some of my many early accolades came my way in your room and you helped me deal with success. Do you still push the envelope? Are there any boundaries to cross?