RoboT,

I hope you're still alive. I hope you haven't forgotten me. I don't hope that you think of me often, because you deserve to enjoy your vacation without thinking about work, but it'd be nice if I've crossed your mind once, briefly. Within the confines of our artificial relationship, I hope that I'm important and that my well being matters.

Your PC name comes from a conversation we had once, months ago. Of course you exist outside of our hour together. You know that I wasn't trying to imply that you weren't real. You knew that, for which I'm thankful. I don't want to hurt you in the same way I don't want to hurt anyone.

But anyway, I wonder if I'm the robot to you. Do I exist when I go down the elevator? Do I hold a piece in your life, if only ever so tiny? I hope I do. Not a big piece, but a part.

18 days, I think? I'm trying not to count. I'm trying to live my life and be more open to experience.

You'd be proud of me, I think. I'm going to NoVA on Friday with my co-teacher for next year. We're going to IKEA, then to the mall nearby. Next week I'm going day drinking with a couple of my girlfriends from college. I'm trying to cultivate friendships. Isn't that weird? I know, it's weird for me too.

I miss your dumb face and your ugly shirts. I'll see you on the 29th. I'll probably write to you again.

Daisy