About 15 years ago, I corresponded with a young writer, Elliot.  My side of the story turned into blogposts, and then a book Bedtime Stories, which is in my bookshop.

In 2023 we briefly connected again, and now I received a new letter. With his consent, I am sharing his blog, and answering via this post.

Dear Elliot,

It was such a big surprise to see your name in my Inbox.
At the risk of sounding disrespectful, you are this strange anomaly in my life!
A bond that should not have happened, and if it did happen it should have dried up and died out after 24 hours.
Or, if that did not happen, then there should have been a co-dependence, ill-will or malice.

And yet it turned out to one of the most equal things I have ever experienced in my life.
And if that meant I had the mind of a 15 year old, when in my thirties, then I take that as a compliment. Because you were more mature than anyone I have ever known, although I think I met your match this year 😉 
Let’s call him Connor.
And it wasn’t until I received your letter and was immediately pulled back into your inner-world, when I realized: “Of course! I knew Connor rang a bell!”
It was you, he reminded me of.

Connor is no longer in my life.
And with your return you’ve kind of proven how I feel about him;
I feel he will return when the time is right.
And am just as detached with him as I was with you.

You are probably one of the few who understands that some bonds do not die just because you are in no contact. But yes, I was disappointed of course. But now you are back! So looks like the Universe has it handled.

I loved all the stories in your letter, and you do deserve a proper answer. But I am so incredibly short on time this weekend after yesterday’s one hour appointment turned into 6, in the most wonderful way!
So this letter back will not be what you or your letter to me deserve.
For the lack of time reasons, but also because I am still unsure of what information about you is part of your blog/ writing/ public, and what not. So that also makes it undesirable to be specific at this time.

Enough with the disclaimers; about your beautiful letter.

I loved your reflection, your inner-world. The way you name things, and weigh them, and describe your love relationships at multiple different levels of facts, expectations, and potential. 

And it’s so cinematic. I enter and it’s like I’m standing in the middle of your life and already know everybody.

About one thing I can be specific though: You do not need an interior designer.
Not as someone who has such an intense relationship with the world around them, bring that into the relationship with your home. You and your partner have found such an amazing place to live. Do not let another person get their hands on it, but make that the work of you and your partner together.

Even if you do an aesthetically super poor job, it will still be so gratifying to look at that strangely colored wall, where you ran out of paint and you just fixed it with a different color.
The doorsteps that never got done and that remind you and your partner every day, that the work is never done.

Let the home become how you work on your relationship, it eases the stress of difficult conversations, because issues no longer have to be confronted or named directly.

It’s good for people like us, with these deep inner-worlds, to have relationships that revolve around practical things.
Not just to get us out of our heads, but also because it’s a great equalizer.
It grounds the relationship, and if you have disagreements or fights, then at least it’s about something silly that seems solvable, which is preferable to hoping for a deep conversation someone is not ready for.
(and one does not exclude the other)

As for the titel of this post, The Prodigal Son, I know it’s pretentious! And also not entirely true because as I said in the first paragraph, it has always been equal.
But yes, the responsibility I felt, back in 2010-ish, of corresponding with a minor, was definitely one I had never had.
And I knew I would never forgive myself if I fucked this up.

Having you return, and doing so incredibly well for yourself, fills my heart with love, joy and maybe I am also crying now.

But you made it Elliot.
You fucking, made it.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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