Dear T,

I miss you. I'm not even halfway through the holiday break. I try to picture being in T, and what I would talk about if I were there, and all I'm able to imagine is me freaking out and panicking and being unable to say anything.

I hope you're having a good and restful holiday. I reckon you deserve that. But I wonder how much of what I've been telling you about myself that you'll have forgotten by the time I see you again.