Letter 22So, Kelan...Yeah, I am kind of surprised I am writing to you as well. I thought I would want to be giving a second chance to Casey.But no, you came to my mind.Funny, in a way, because I already tried to give you a second chance.I can't remember what it was you said about me and to me after I realized that you and I were a bad idea. All I remember is that it hurt like hell, and made me want to crawl under a rock and die. So I forgot it. I even forgave. And when you called again, I was so glad, because I hoped we might somehow be friends again.I don't understand why you couldn't let sleeping hormones lie, and just be friends. No, you just had to lay it on thick, and pretend for half an hour that you gave a shit about my life, and my struggles. It hurt that, when I made it clear there could not be physical closeness, you gave up our friendship.It stung even more that you said I could never find happiness in religion, when you had said that new found peace I had was a great thing a m
Letter 21First impressions rarely stick with me, but you were somehow different. I don't know if it was the frosty air, or being able to see our voices twining together with puffs of steam, but I knew it then.I could fall in love with you.Although I proclaimed love for another so proudly, and even though I was dreaming of marriage, children, the american-dream-styled happiness, I knew that you were the sort that could make me laugh, and, I got a feeling even then, would be able to listen to my tears.That was the only first impression that was right, that didn't waste away and change as I passed classes and failed relationships: you were a man whom I could love.You were not a man who promised devotion as he fucked another man.You did not use and use and toss me away when I wouldn't let you use me anymore.You never hid a shadowy past under sunlit words that dissolved into silence and left when I doubted.You never preyed on my hopes and beliefs when I was so empty, nor attacked them when I
Letter 20Dear, wonderful, amazing, you,I wonder if you ever heard my heart crack and splinter? God knows you made it do so often enough. Of course, it was usually over the phone, or in the dark glimmer of night time parking lots, so you never really saw the tears. I don't know how I feel about that, if I want you to continue in the illusions that I was ok, or if I want you to see every crystal, to feel them each individually like a bullet.It is not that I want to hurt you, but rather that I would love to feel your voice one last time, to have you understand the complexities that make up me.Or maybe you see those complexities already, and you do what you do because you don't know what else to do.See, that makes about as much sense as the fact that I still admit I love you, even though we have been oh so confused and lost and dizzy.I am not sure what else I can say on this subject...Yes, you have broken my heart the most, if only by repetition, but I still see you as a close friend, your smi
Letter 19Hey there....POKEPokepokeOk, there you are. Sorry, I just start fearing that you are ignoring me. Probably my greatest fear, no longer being important enough to be talked to.It's not that I obsess so much as I yearn. I can't get you out my mind with this yearning. Crazy, isn't it? I write you letters, but never tell you about them when I speak with you, because I'm afraid that you could never speak to me again if you knew what I still dream about.If it makes any difference, I have managed to admit that they are merely dreams, and reality doesn't usually work that way.So, yeah, you've been on my mind a good bit. Sorry about that, and that I can't ever tell you this when I actually speak with you.Alright, I'll catch you when your are on later. Have fun!*User has disconnected*
Letter 18Dear Imaginary Self, even though I dream of you being me, silver sports cars, passionate nights and flying horses, you need to realize that the struggles are far more important than posturing could ever be. Also, I know that seeing you so clearly has muddled my minds eye as to who I am myself, because even though you, who I could be, wear sophisticated clothes and perfect laughter, I must be honest and acknowledge that it still is easier to buy super hero tee shirts and jeans.Not that I am ignoring you altogether. Not at all.I'm growing up, wearing my hair nicer, conversing with adults easier, and slowly growing my wardrobe out to match my dreams. I am working towards being you, but stop rushing me. It will take time.Love, Mimi.
Letter 17Dear Princesses,I miss turning you right side up and holding masquerade balls, but I just realized I must apologize for never providing you with any princes other than those rabbit faced princelings. They could never be enough for such sophisticated ladies as you, with your perfect magenta velvet gowns, topped by emeralds and dew drop diamonds.If I may, I would like to tell you a secret: I always dreamed of having a gown as wonderful as those every day dresses, able to furl into a twisted dream in the night, and unfold like an airy cloud of glory in the sunlight.You had the most wonderful tailor, but all he ever gave me were plain blue eyes, skinny scabby knees and out of control hair. To be perfectly fair, my legs are not so skinny anymore, and I only have occasional bruises instead of scabs...and even my hair has started filling out with the rest of me. However, I still feel like that skinny little girl most days, and I have to wonder how you princesses without kingdoms
Letter 16Infinities always remind me of you, the way they glow like sultry slanted eyes, laughing at me in my ancient clunker.Sometimes I wonder if you would have ever let me drive your car if we had continued being a 'we'.Also, if I had a fun car such as yours, what sort of craziness could we wreak upon the world?I know, this is not much of a letter, but you are out of state, I am out of words, and my car is nearly out of gas from pretending at badassery.
Letter 15Hey, Casey!Random letter, I know. Like I said before, I've given myself writing assignments. The weird thing is I am actually going on with them. I only have sixteen left to write. Some of these have been actually a bit poetic, I think. It does not seem that I entirely failed at spinning these unread messages for people who...oh, let me face it, will probably never read them.Including you.Maybe that knowledge is what allows me to write so easily. I don't have to worry about what these words can stir up in you. Because I can dream, and believe, me I often have, about them being read by you, and you seeing finally that all I have done was done in love. Listening through grief and numbness. Backing off when you were so unsure about us. Giving advice about those relationships you have tried. Holding your hand through that death that passed for your life for a year. I dream so often that you could finally see that, and somehow see that you love me as much as I love you, and there could b
Letter 14You and I have more in common with a beach and drifting waves than I thoughtThere are tides to usMoments where we are drawn closerCloserEmbracingLingering kissesEmbracesTracing your fingers down my spine like sea foamBefore drifting away againAnd the sands grow silentUntil you crash again