What is it you think about? How difficult it must have been for you. For you to witness all of this. I know what you think of me, and truthfully I delight in it. It couldn't possibly be anything bad for the actions you have show have spoken louder than any words. I am glad you remember. I am glad that you are still thinking. The days of olives groves and golf at midnight. The readings of Hemingway, the lights that lead the path. The smoke after 4am and the jugs of wine that sat next to the table outside the bedroom terrace. How lovely of a memory for you to have. The candles that lit, the streams of moon glow and the cool night air that came through the window. For I am flattered that I left such an impression. But then again how could I not have. I have the picture to remember.