Dear Friend, Volume 2

Here’s another batch of fragments from my ancient love letters. (read Volume 1 here.) I have this shoebox full of them in my room and thought some of these lines from friends and lovers alike were too beautiful not to share. They are from a dozen people over the past decade, in no order whatsoever. Enjoy! 

I don’t know what to say. I something you. You are my stronghold and I really just want to bury my face in your chest and cry because I know you would be exactly what I need.

Ahh! I love you. Is it strange to have this much passion for one thing? Not a thing—YOU!

Writing something for you was really difficult. I wrote and erased tons of letters for you. So I decided to only write about what I’m sure of, and I’m sure that I’m really happy that I had the chance to meet you.

You can’t count the waves, the sand, the stars, or the ways I love you.

Basically, I wanted to tell you, Friend, that the only way I’ve ever coped with chaos is creating more chaos. I only feel good when I’m orchestrating disaster. I am bored and numb until I am anxious or sad and then I f*** something up on purpose to make myself laugh.

I always enjoy myself when you’re around. Thank you for being weird. I’m weird. You’re weird. We’re all weird and I love it.

My cousin eats cereal (for Ethan)
He is downstairs.
I tell him,
I’m glad you’re here.
He says he’s glad also.
We wave
and I go to type this.

There isn’t one night that passes when I don’t wish that I had hugged you goodnight or I was staying up all night talking with you. There isn’t a morning when I don’t wish yours was the first face my eyes came across or your eyes were the first I could look into. I miss you and there is so much more in that phrase than appears on the paper in ink. I love you and when I say that it is only a surface of the ocean of feeling inside me. There isn’t enough paper in the world that could hold it.

When I am home next we should have deep conversations.

Sorry if the paper is smudged, I just got in from the rain and my hair is dripping and not just a little. I don’t mind. I really like being attacked by the weather.

You said your romantic fire is being doused by the liquid of distance. I think the liquid of distance can be flammable.

I am drowning and burning at the same time. I miss you and I need you. My hands ache to be touched by your hands; my fingers long to be entwined with yours. My nose misses your scent. My eyes tear up when they look around and can’t find you. My head misses the comfort of your shoulder and my ears are stubbornly deaf to any sound because they want you to whisper a secret to them. This could be considered a form of torture.

I think my poetry isn’t very good because I was writing and there was no music to it, I was just giving information.

Loneliness is hard to live with. I kinda think loneliness is a good friend a person has with them their whole life and getting to know it and having it reflect a person’s self is important, good, hard life work. I hope I develop my vocabulary with myself and my friends. Sometimes relationships get stunted because they rely on outdated or immature vocabulary.

I don’t think we should have just one ‘song,’ it should change as we change. There are specific lines from different songs, but not always the whole song. I’ll think about it.

To me, my brother’s wedding was blue, but the kind of sky blue that reflects beautiful things. Usually blue feels like a bruise. This blue was lace, delicate and strong, like an ocean or a dress.

I can tell when you are really angry or sad or bored or annoyed. Maybe we need to spend more time together and I’ll memorize you. I’ll pick through your head. I want to finish your sentences and I want to know everything.

I’m reminded that this is not all there is. That I don’t have to stay here, get married, become a mom, hate my life. Thank you for your ambiguity.

I think I’m going to send this before I think better of it.

e