wee lee is not here

i've been accused of being aloof and distant so many times in america that i've come to accept it about myself. but really, should i? i don't remember being secretive, veiling my thoughts with an emotionless exterior.
i received a letter from a wonderful galpal yesterday. she's spending the semester in guatemala and i first glanced over the letter, glad to have received a handwritten note and smiling at old memories. then i reread it and it was so beautiful. she says:

in chapter 14 of the novel you'll be introduced as such: wee lee was born on a night of a full moon, with his eyes open. he did not look first at his mother but out the window and it was that glace if mystery that carrier him throughout his days. that full moon glance that could draw oceans near to the shore, or by ignoring their wave, make them retreat into the sea.

oh, what am i doing? what am i missing out on?