Dear Vanya,

I know very little, but here’s what I know.

You can fall in love with someone’s soul — I know; I have — so someone can fall in love with yours, too.

When you love someone’s soul, you see their body differently. It’s inevitable. After all, where else could the soul live but in the cells?

(Drinking too much kills cells, and killing cells kills the soul. In hard times, you need more soul not less.)

Look in the mirror, and love your face. If you do, others will, too. Only love makes a thing lovable.

Anyone who doesn’t want to know you isn’t worth knowing. No exceptions.

In The Seagull, Masha, dressed all in black and lovesick, says, “I’m in mourning for my life.”

We must not mourn, though; we must celebrate, like a bride or bridegroom on their wedding day.

We must be wholly in love with our life, accepting it exactly as it is, or else it is not love at all.

Love, above all, is wonder.

Everything which perplexes us about our lover grows our love for them, the same with our life. Love, above all, is wonder.

Comfort lies in the similarities, love in the differences. If you seek love, seek yourself. Love will find you.

Vocation, I have heard, is where the world needs what you love to do. The problem seems to be not finding one but choosing one.

I know very little, but it might be enough. I have what I need, and I hope for what I want. I wish you the same.

Most sincerely,

David