Dearest Micah,
Indulge me in one more apology. I have put off writing this letter as long as I could. I cannot keep my fingers from shaking, and consequently, I cannot keep the lines straight. So I apologize if my hand is not legible.
I believe I know what you are going through. My feelings for you are not a surprise to me. But I have already been struggling with this issue for over a decade. I have had time to work through my so-called deviant impulses, and if not totally understand them, at least come to terms with them. I have never revealed these details to anybody else, and as Vincent has passed on now, it is solely my story to tell.
I met Vincent at Harvard when I was nineteen. He was a student of science. Astronomy, actually. We rarely had reason to meet by accident, and it was m
