I will be missed

Or at least that's what my pen pal tells me. He sent me another post card, this time from Dallas, or Birmingham, or really who knows where? And where from is not really the point.

He'll miss my husband too, he says. Although, of course, I don't have a husband. I do know that he is referring to my ex-husband, Michael, who also (again) works in the same office complex as I do. (I know, what are the chances? In a city of 1.3 million, our offices are right next door.) And who, it's true, is raising my daughters with me, long distance-like.

I don't know as much about you, Gregory, although I'm pretty sure you aren't married. I do know that you love to shake hands, and pat people on the shoulders, and that you're a friendly sort of fellow. I know that you sometimes walk an invisible dog, and I heard a rumor that you had a foot fetish, but that's just hearsay, so let's pretend I didn't bring it up. I also know that you send unsigned postcards to people even if they work right next door, which is different, and a little strange, and was a bit creepy until I figured it out.

But you know, I think I will miss you waving at my car every time you're standing out there as I pull into the parking lot. Although I'm not sure when this will be. Are you already gone? Did you mail this postcard from the road? And who are you moving with?

All questions I will likely never have answered. Unless of course you're still here. Then I could simply pull over the next time I enter the parking lot with you waving vigorously to ask you.

I do know you'll be in Watertown, New York though. And I also know that I will do my best to take care of myself.

You do the same!

And really, how cute is that Hermey the dentist stamp?!