Hey baby cakes,

How’s it going out there? I know you’re on watch as I write this. Is the sun still high in the sky? Sometimes, you pop into my head – vivid and animated – and I like to believe that it’s because you’ve thought about me and the universe is sending me a telepathic ping so that I’ll daydream about you too.

You should be getting to St. Helena any day now, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to chatting with you, even just to know you’re okay and everything is going really well.

So if I seem a little more chipper today, now you know why. Also, I’ve had a generally good Monday. Work was good, and I’m picking Mimi up from the airport later, and I played with Wilson for a bit just now. And now I’m sipping the French Vanilla coffee that we bought together and watching the sun duck behind the mountain, and in the background, Paolo Nutini is serenading me …

God, is Caustic Love one of the best albums ever made? If I had to listen to it every day for the rest of time, I would be a happy woman I think.

“And you’ll either love me or you’ll hate me, but I can see you’ve got no time for in-between.” 

I wake up some mornings with this song already playing in my head. Those usually turn out to be brilliant days. Listen while you read. 💛

Zinhle said something to me the other day that has really helped me with the whole rabbit hole of anxious dismay thing, which was that you’re probably just as scared and nervous and lost as I am. Probably also wondering how much you really know me, and whether you’ve made a good decision.

So in today’s letter I want to tell you about me; primarily things I love.

I believe that early summer mornings are the best time for finding magic, and late summer nights are the perfect time for falling in love. And that both of these things are best discovered on a joy ride along a windy Cape Town road.

When I’m feeling particularly overwhelmed, I walk high up into the forest, sit and stare out at the city while Wilson digs holes and eats twigs. If it’s a nice day, I’ll lie back and watch the sun rays filter through the trees, and I imagine I could float up towards them and out into the sky.

I read The Great Gatsby every year. Usually right before my birthday. I’ve had the same copy since I was 15. It goes wherever I go, and is the singular most important piece of literature I’ve ever read.

I worry that I’ll never write anything of importance to anyone, and that all the promise and talent will be a memory of youth left behind. But I do love to write. I love the rhythmic ebb and flow; I like the structure and control; I like ability to create and conjure. I love alliteration.

I like going to the beach in the winter (warm winter days mind you). Mostly because there are no other people, and you can wade in until your thighs and enjoy how serene the ocean is. Empty beaches feel like being lost in time.

Simon the spider has been hanging out in my lounge for about a week now. I wouldn’t say I love him but he appears to be injured so I’m letting him stay. For now.

I feel the most beautiful when I try on a new dress.

I like going to late night movies; mostly because I like wandering around the empty shopping mall afterwards.

I love candle light. No matter where you are, a candle lit room will always feel safe, and secret, and like home.

For my 27th birthday, I hope to be in the city, with glitter in my hair, and cocktail in hand. I hope the night is loud and dirty and filled with mayhem.

For my 30th birthday, I hope to climb Kilimanjaro, though a more realistic dream is probably a sunrise trek up Mount Batur in Bali. Having stumbled into my twenties, I hope to transcend into my thirties.

And then, I love this first photo of us. We look like a family, even though I’d only met you twelve days before. Two days later, I would tell you that I loved you, though I’m sure in this moment I knew it.


I’ll write more in my next letter but in a moment, I’m going to close my eyes and concentrate on this memory of you. And I’m going to hope that the universe carries me to you, and somewhere in the middle of the ocean, you will feel as if I’m standing right next to you.




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