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37 Address Unknown D earest Dep/Blaze, I know I said I wouldn’t try to recreate my letters to you, only I need some intimate conveyance, a way to reach you, to tell you what your letters mean to me today. Your tenderness and concern are the sweetest gifts of this long-delayed reunion. The seeds of our sorrow are in these letters too. We were so young, honey, so ill-equipped to mend the fissures absence and uncertainty were creating. Yes, conventional wisdom says that you can only save yourself, but we’re alike, you and I, undying romantics , and I can’t seem to throw away the certainty that love can transform: it can bring out music; it can bring back the past. I’ve come back to Austin to reclaim the girl I was. I don’t like having to acknowledge the doubt that pulled at me each time you said, See you later. Your disappearances collided with my insecurities , eroding my shaky confidence: maybe you didn’t love me after all. You understood this better than me; your letters are rife with reassurance. I’m trying to see you clearly too. You were working so hard, and for such good reasons. I don’t think I really grasped what it cost you to get up on stage and perform. You had made a brave step. The time in Georgia was important for you, just as my solitude in Austin was for me. In your letters, you sound mostly buoyant and unstoppable; maybe you just didn’t want me to fret. Of course now I have a clearer picture of what your life on the road was like. You left a zigzagging trail of clues, didn’t you, Dep? This one was embedded in two verses of a song you would write that fall— 148 Address Unknown | 149 another tune I wouldn’t hear for twenty-six years, thank you very much, “Baby, Can I Crawl Back to You?” Sittin’ in a barroom countin’ my dough Runnin’ out of money and places to go Sittin’ in a barroom drunk at night Won’t get to sleep till the first daylight Baby, can I crawl back to you? Sittin’ in a jailhouse countin’ my dough Ran out of money but I found a place to go Ought to be leavin’ in a day or two Get myself together, can I come back to you? Baby, can I crawl back to you? Baby, can I crawl back to you? The man you were away from me was not the one I knew. The tree house had suspended your rogue self, or maybe you suspended it for the tree house. You tried to keep it separate from our life in Austin, but in the end you couldn’t. You had started to live two lives. Maybe that’s why you had to keep leaving; your comings and goings were intended to protect me from what you had to live out, one way or another. Lovers and music all have their times. You were already seeing the two as separate, weren’t you, Blaze? As I write this, I realize that my deepest regret is that you didn’t feel you could trust me with all of you. Maybe that was because you knew, better than anyone, how fragile I really was. If only I’d been strong enough to hold on to the you I had. I love you. I miss you. Please send me your current address. Sybil ...

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