February 14th, 1948

February 14th, 1948
Lakeland-FL                                                              To: Jamal Bankfort, New Orleans

It was no longer infatuation. The feeling of missing you was eating me inside. Louis Armstrong´s newest song was on my record player, and the phrase

"Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans, 
when that's where you left your heart
And there's one thing more I miss the one I care for 
More than I miss New Orleans",

could not stay away from echoing in my otherwise empty head.

Only way to fill up my head was by drinking spirits that wrenched my pumps as I coughed after each sip. At least the bottle was at an arms length of reach. At least I could depend on the liquid kick, to give me a push. All I have been lately is a ghost of the past. Trying to grasp on the memories, to see if I can still catch a hold.
Or then there was the other way to engage my mind. And that was thinking about you. How much I missed you, how much you cared.

You were my Orleans. You were my scotch on the rocks I indulged now and then. You were the sanctuary I once frowned on seeking into, but now seldom am seeking for.

I miss you Orleans.

love, Tabitha