What strikes one here is Warhol's refusal to sentimentalize—he doesn't wish he'd loved her more, only that he'd *known* her better, a distinction that acknowledges how proximity and affection can exist in separate chambers. Coming from a man who built an empire on surfaces, repetition, and celebrity distance, this admission suggests that even those most comfortable with emotional opacity recognize its cost. The remark feels especially sharp because Warhol was famously dependent on his mother, Julia, yet their bond remained strangely opaque—much like a parent and adult child who speak weekly but never quite bridge the gap between who they were to each other in childhood and who they've become.