I couldn't conceive of you being boring or ordinary; it's just so clear that you're not. You write and talk and yeah.... There's this glow of Heatherness about you.

The things that make us special are things we never get to see about ourselves. We just get to waste away wishing...

I miss you. I sent more post cards, but I don't know if you'll ever get them because I was totally incapable of understanding Czech postage and I might have screwed it up. But someone in Prague really wished you were there, so that's something, right?