Letters from Midtown

It's funny, I've been writing to myself for years now. Years of notes in my phone and delayed send emails and reminders on the edges of outlines when I spoke and poems on napkins from little places tucked in the smallest corners of towns. There was always that notion in the back of my head that someday someone could read them, but they were never really written for that, with the exception of one very honest letter that I'll tell the story of soon. Some were about hopes and some were about fears and everything else that bridges that gap and makes up our human experience. Foxfire always said that we need to hold on to the traditions of Appalachia because it reminds us that we can't be humans alone. We are built to be in community: during the long months of early morning sewing and toiling, in the hard months when the storms roll in and bring with them worry of if the work was for naught, and in the harvest when the bread is fresh and the joy is ample.
Anyway, I'm glad I met you and you reminded me that having breakfast is the next step in the morning even if you have no clue what to do with your life, Lenny.

-Midge