December 6, 2012

My dearest,

Most friends ask us why we are so antisocial at home, you in your study and me in the living room, both of us tapping away at our computers. I never quite know how to reply.

This week I’ve been staying at a five-star hotel every day to run an event. The room I have is nice, of course, but you’re not there.

After one night too many spent alone, I hail a cab and tell him to take me home. I run up the stairs, two steps at a time; unlocking the door and the grille, one key after another, and when the door opens, you are there, grinning at me …

… and then you head back to your study and I sit down on the sofa in the living room and switch on my laptop. All you can hear is the tapping of our fingers on our keyboards. We may not be in the same room, but we are in the same space, and after a fashion, we have found a room of our own.

This, I guess, is my answer.

Yours, ever and always.