Correspondence 6

(For a newer draft of this letter within the completed series of letters, click here.)

Alan,

My tone was stern. I admit I turned the screw too far. I apologize for that. Let us both calm down and take stock of the situation. You are somewhere between proud and miserable. I am somewhere between angry and concerned. Let's both commit to struggling to make way towards the better side of our Janus-faced hearts. In order to do that, you need to stop thinking about deserts and I need to stop considering you my responsibility.

I think you are completely right in your dissatisfaction regarding the standard mode of personal identity. We are all much more than our job titles. Still, social convention demands it and has a way of simplifying what would otherwise be needlessly complicated. If we could not draw upon a set of stock questions to ask at dinner parties and church meetings, how much more awkward would introductions be? Moreover, one can gain understanding about a person from know how she spends a third of her waking hours. It would be wrong to assume that is the best she was capable of doing, of course. To know how she reconciles herself to the role would be informative. Granting a concession to convention, I would applaud that original person who would ask what I did this morning instead of where I work.

Speaking of question asking, I'd like to make you aware of a possibility. You could ask me about myself sometime. That would be original, wouldn't it? You could ask me what I have done with myself the last five years. I would then tell you how, after we parted ways and I went through the requisite mourning process, I decided to pick up anchor and set off for this metropolis. (I assume my mother was kind enough to forward you my address. She always was incorrigibly fond of you.) My experience here has been, all in all, refreshing. It is at once easier to lose yourself and to be found in a big city. I appreciate the anonymity it provides, although being in close proximity to so many other people increases your chances of meeting a loon. Everything here is faster. There is no time for pleasantries, yet there remains just enough for rudeness. Even then, the city proves ambivalent. Provided the offender is not a neighbor, the odds are against ever running across the same villain. It is safer to turn your cheek here as a result, since it is improbable to be struck twice. Wouldn't it be nice that I could say all this and it would appear we were interacting rather than alternately acting? But I am getting ahead of myself, imagining as I do.

I hope you are better now. Do yourself a favor and search out someone to help in whatever small way you can find.

Sophia