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in a web of glass, pinned to the edges of vision

One of the best things.

I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte

mucha mosaic

One of the best things.

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It's always a pleasure to see an old friend- a friend you've valued greatly over the years, whose opinion makes the world seem a little more pinned down, just a bit less transitory and confusing. A friend whose perspectives on the world echo your own. A friend who you've seen through hard times- and who's seen you through hard times as well.
True friendship is a rare gift, and one that mercifully is always surprising: mercifully, because you can always view it as revelation, as celebration, even when you take it for granted that it was there.
I've missed you, friend. It's good to hear your voice, good to... I want to say 'see you', but that's not what the sense is. A sense of presence, of rightness, a sense of your life being present in my own.
Yeah, I know this sounds sappy. But it's true. Hopefully you get to your bed safely, and hopefully you sleep well- you mentioned you haven't been getting all the rest you need.
I'd missed you more than I knew: thank you, for the honor of your presence.
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