I have lived in Texas all my life and though it's an interesting place, the scorching summers are getting the best of me. I feel like my life is at a standstill, am bored to tears with my job and am in a dissatisfying relationship. I have set my sights on Seattle. No real concrete reason, it just seems like the right move to me, even though I have never been there. My fellow Texans are trying to dissuade me: The weather is lousy, it's dark half of the year, the people are pretentious. They all assume I will be miserable. Should I ignore their warnings and set out on my own and visit the place before moving? What do you think of Seattle?

Withering on the Vine

Dear Withering,

Funny you should ask. I spent a few days in Seattle in September and found it, as always, delightful and inspiring. A beautiful city, set on steep hills, among lakes, on the ocean shore, snowcapped mountains to the east and west, ferryboats chugging across the bay, cheerful unpretentious neighborhoods, a great downtown with old sections handsomely preserved and, beyond that, a real civic spirit that is progressive and tolerant and humorous and rather worldly. Seattlites are a book-reading, mountain-hiking, theatergoing, salmon-fishing bunch, and they strike me as salt of the earth and good to be around. As for the weather, it is perpetual autumn, and if you like autumn, then it's your place. Balmy in the winter, temperate in summer, and spring and fall are really splendid. And when you stop to think of the purgatory that is Texas in August, Seattle is heaven. Go visit. Check out the neighborhood around the university. Visit Ballard, the Oslo of the Northwest. Take the ferry out to Bainbridge Island and stand at the rail and look at the city. Mostly, just breathe the air.

Dear Mr. Blue,

Here's a pathetic midlife question for you. I can't stop thinking about a woman I knew in high school and college. She was the great, agonizing, unrequited love of my youth. We spent lots of time together, but things never went very far. I was shy and awkward; she didn't think of me "that way."

I eventually (and unfortunately) married another woman, had children, divorced. I haven't seen my old love for 20 years, but I've thought of her often, wondering how things turned out for her. OK, I actually wondered if she was pining for me.

Recently I learned that she moved far away and has been married to the same fellow for a long time. She has kids, a house in a nice town in New England, the whole bit. I'd like to write a nice, friendly letter asking how she's doing. I tried, but couldn't find the right tone. What I really want to say is that I still think about her, that I still wonder about all those roads we didn't take. But that would be too weird after so many years, don't you think?

Never Got Over It

Dear Never,

Yes, it would be. Not weird, but awkward. Like walking up to a stranger and giving her a big burlap bag full of chickens. What is she supposed to do with them? Try writing the friendly letter. The first paragraph says, "I'm glad to hear good things about you. Hope you're doing well. Here, in 50 words, is what's happened with me." The second paragraph is a reflection on your past, preferably humorous, no heavy breathing. And the third paragraph is some small personal anecdote, something that illuminates you and your life now. And then you say, "Let me hear from you." That's the right tone, friendly and distant. Twenty years is a long time. You really don't know this woman anymore.

Dear Mr. Blue,

A few months ago, I married the man I had been living with for three years. The wedding was great, but now everything seems so lackluster. There's a lack of passion (mostly on my end), and I find myself waxing nostalgic for loves of the past, ones that seemed infinitely more pulse-racing than this current union.

My husband is a loving, funny, sweet little man, but I don't have any animal lust for him. Maybe I settled for someone safe and bland because I was pushing 30 and thought the marriage and babies timeline was running out. I think maybe I made a mistake and should try to remedy it by getting out of this marriage and living out my Harlequinesque fantasies.

On the other hand, I have great fear of being a lonely spinster if I do venture out on my own. The thought of separating from my husband and losing the life and friends that we have together isn't all that appealing, either. What to do?

Wavering

Dear Wavering,

You and me too, babes. I'm 58, married, two kids, a writer, in pretty good shape for the shape I'm in, and I keep thinking, If I'm ever going to make a career as a pop star, I maybe better do it pretty soon. I enjoy writing but wonder if I made a mistake in choosing this for a career and if I wouldn't enjoy stardom more. I sing a lot around home and my wife enjoys it and maybe I should pursue this and invest in some singer clothes. On the other hand, I have a fear of being a huge flop and enduring the jeers and insults of critics. What to do?

Maya Angelou reads from "The Heart of a Woman"