Very interesting.
It seems that every time we talk for a long time, I have another dream.
When you described your room to me, I really felt like I was laying next to you again with my hand on the back of your neck, just like in the car that night in Tucson.
Then I slept and woke up with a valentine vision of a big broken heart. It was yours, it was mine.
And I heard a sharp pink whisper;
"so now you know some things, player."
"first, you know what it is to be busted at the table and walk away with what seems like nothing... at first..."
"...and next you realize how big the stakes actually are...but you simply can't know that until you feel the loss."
"and next you know that the knowledge you've gained is worth the cost..."
"because the next time you make that bet you're gonna know what you're betting, for real..."
"Because it's worth more than anything else you've known."
"But it's still luck of the draw and you gotta be in it to win it"
"so playing the cheap and easy table again and again is FINE because someday that pot will slowly steadily get huge, and suddenly you will hear me whisper again, and you will know it's time to match that pot chip for a shining chip, and your frozen luck and heart will suddenly thaw and beat louder than before..."
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this is another letter written to me... I've never met anyone who understood me better than this guy. It just reassures me that there is something great planned for me... I have to make it happen.