Twice now, in the course of walking around the neighborhood, I've seen police outside your building and wondered, involuntarily, if you were dead.
Indicating, I suppose, an internal knowledge that it was not so impossible a reality.

This spins off into so many fractured and difficult emotional reactions that I cannot begin to write about it,
or even to really think about it.

I guess, all in all, that I hope very much that you are okay, even if I never want to speak to you or see you ever again.