Tag: life

A Letter You’ll Never Read

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They told me that I should write a letter. A form of closure they said. It should be addressed to YOU — capital y — capital ou. So here I am. Writing you a letter I hope you’ll never read.

From the moment it happened, I was so confused. How did I feel so safe…so secure with you? How did you let me in when no one else had gotten there before? But I wasn’t sad–never sad. I felt nervous excitement–elation. I didn’t know what it was at first. Or maybe deep down I did and needed time for my mind to catch up. The beginning was beautiful. The excitement of texting back and forth. Of good nights and good mornings. How was your day and good news. It was confusing but new. It was beautiful. But we weren’t ready–we both knew. Countless days, daily texts, trips, and shared beds. Whatever it was between us made me like myself a little more.

When did it all become so overwhelming? When did I start missing the way you felt beside me? When did sleeping alone at night feel wrong? There was so much drama behind the scenes I didn’t let you know. So much strain in my own life. Was there strain in yours? You have so much to look forward to every day. You don’t need me. You never did. You never looked forward to my text…but I hope you never dreaded it. Was I too much drama in your normally calm life? You never thought about a relationship and I think I made you think too much.

But we enjoyed our time, didn’t we? No regrets.

But the end…goddess did that hurt. Something neither of us could stop. Something that only festered and grew. Your privacy was invaded–mine too. It became too much. The cup was overflowing. No, it had toppled long ago and we pretended its trickling was enough to hang on. When did daily texts become later and later? Less and less? When every two weeks became three…became longer. When did the weight of social interactions cause all walls to crumble down. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t mine either. It was the world against us.

I hate how we ended. I hate having to read the words on a phone (I like to think you did too). It changed everything. It made everything end. That last phone call was to hear your voice. Hear it one last time before we meet again as friends. And this time only friends. Right now it hurts. But it won’t always.

But–

If I knew the last time I held you would be the last time, I would’ve held you closer.

If I knew the last kiss would be our last, I would’ve kissed you longer.

If I knew the last time we made love would be our last, I would’ve waited til the sun came up for it to end.

If I knew the last time you kissed me on my forehead while I slept was going to be the last, I would’ve never woken up.

But the world is cruel. Our situation is cruel.

Gone are the hopes for warm autumn dates. Gone are the plans we’d made. Gone are the future talks and hopes. While all we live in is overwhelm. Ripped apart. Was it wrong of me to give you the out? I could’ve kept silent. I could’ve let you find out naturally–or never. But I’m not a selfish being. I only wanted good for you.

Even if good wasn’t me.

So I’m writing this letter. This letter I hope you’ll never read. But they say I’ll get closure. Enough for my feelings to one day fade, for me to smile genuinely when I see you again and not feel the pain. To be friends and greet you with a grin. A:

How are you?

(I miss you).

I’m fine.

(I still love you)

And you’ll ask me how I am and I’ll smile.

I’m doing fine too.

(I will be)

We promised to be friends. To not lose each other from the start. Because even just as friends, at least I get to see your smile in my life.

(it’s all I can ask for)

Why do you write?

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People ask me what I want to do and they seem surprised when I say “Write”. Why? Because apparently people look at me and see someone who is smart, who can do all these things, and who can “command” a room. That’s not true. The truth is, I may be smart–but I’m not as smart as everyone thinks. I can command a room, but not with power or interest.

You see, ever since I was little I had a simple idea of what I wanted to do “I want to make a difference. I want to save people.” It seems simple enough–there’s so many things to do. So I tried. I tried to be a biochemist–to dabble in it in hopes of becoming a cancer researcher. Well, it turns out I’m rather shit at science. Honestly horrible. I pass classes only by studying my ass of, but quite honestly I’m terrible at most anything that has to do with actual scientific testing. Plus it has a lot of math sometimes and I suck at math. I can barely do arithmetic in my head.

So I thought, maybe I’ll become a psychologist. Sadly, I apparently am not good at talking to people. Well, at least in the way psychologist’s should. I understand them, but I’m really bad at actually listening and giving helpful advice…or so I’m told. Besides, I get too sad listening to others problems. It hurts me to see other people’s pain so intimately.

Well, then what if I did something else? A doctor! I can be a doctor. Too bad hospitals freak me out and to be honest, I don’t think my own mind would allow me to be a doctor. Plus I won’t lie to you…I’ve never given it an honest try because I sucked so bad at anything that requires deep concentration and a steady hand (I’m a natural klutz).

So then I realized I was having a problem. How can I help someone when all that I tried I was either not good enough at, just plain out got bored with? I was at a complete loss. Everyone was telling me I could do anything and yet I knew it wasn’t true because I did have limitations in my own skills. What was I to do? What could I possibly do to “save” people and make a difference? Write.

It took me a while to come to this conclusion, but I’d always been writing–ever since I was a kid (y’know–on the walls with crayons). So my solution was staring at me in the face. I, who raved about stories that changed my life. I, who always was inspired to write down what I saw around me. I–I could be a writer. All of a sudden, I realized that stories, art–they can make a difference. They can make someone feel not so alone, they can inspire, can heal. Stories have this beautiful power of being able to be whatever you make them. Which is why I decided that I wanted to write stories; beautiful stories, powerful stories, stories that showed the good and the bad of life. Stories that came from somewhere deep and showed a part of the human experience.

Ever since I came to this conclusion, I’ve been able to proudly tell people “I want to be a writer” and when they ask I can tell them easily “because I want to make a difference. I want to write stories that’ll touch people. That’ll give them hope or make them feel less alone.” Because I may not be good at math or science or talking in great crowds, teaching, or more, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change someone’s life. No matter what you do, you can always change someone’s life. Maybe not in the obvious ways, but even just the smallest.

Old friends & Coffee

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Over the summer I found that a lot of people I used to know managed to apparate into my life again. It all started with my friend who, out of all things, lives down the street and whom I hadn’t talked to in a while.  Once the best of friends we grew apart and yet connected last January again over coffee. During the summer I saw her a few more times, either dancing or having coffee dates. It was a little awkward but overall nice (a subject we touched on). It was nice because even though we’d both changed and it was a little strange at first, before we knew it it was like no time had passed at all. It was like we were back in the days when we talked about everything and had fun. It was just that we were older and instead of drinking lemonade we were drinking IPA’s.

Aside from her, I bumped into other friends (a few of which also live in the same neighborhood as I and her. How ever did we grow apart?) and the same kind of things happened with them (I bumped into most of them at bars/lounges) and it was both fun and still weird. You see, while we all felt like we were all in the same place in life (nowhere), we also seemed slightly…competitive. As we chatted it was a huge game of who has done more things and who has had the craziest “adult” life yet (can I say adult if we’re only like twenty-two?). The more I spent time with old friends the more it seemed that since we all knew we were in the same rut, it was only a matter of who had the best time getting there. It made me wonder about that scenario you see played out on television where at the high school reunion you go to flaunt off your success. But again, this time it wasn’t so much success as it was how fun things are.

Which of course got me thinking…why were we all out there dancing and drinking and “enjoying our twenties” when all we talked over coffee about was jobs, books, adult life, and the troubles we were having? Well, it wasn’t hard to figure out. You see, we’re all coming back into town after graduating college and the funny thing is none of us did what we set out to. We never got the ring to Mordor, we didn’t find the Horcruxes, we didn’t even get the lantern into the pumpkin in time. That’s not to say we didn’t do anything in college. We all had great times, got our degrees, and acquired mass amount of loans, but none of us are coming back bragging about that amazing job or internship that is lined up for us straight out of college. Most of us can’t even give the amazing love story of meeting their Marshall or Lily during college Most of us can just say, “yeah, well I’m looking for a job to save up to do…[insert goal here]”. Which makes sense. Life isn’t what our high school mindset thought it would be and that’s okay. It never is, and maybe we have to drink our troubles away to forget how everything isn’t working out for us at the moment but that’s okay–well, at least for now. It just needs time and patience and it’ll be fine. It may not be what we expected but it’ll be beautiful anyway. Plus, until then we can always chat over coffee when we run into each other. If there’s one comfort, it’s familiarity in the changing world of life after college. And it’s great to be with familiar people, dancing the night away so we can relax from our worries for just a little bit.

And I guess even as I scour for jobs still and edit my book (last edits I swear! Then to query agents), I have it a bit better than others. After all, I got my best freak friend (That doesn’t sound nearly as endearing as it is) that’s a constant amongst all the other people who come and go like the tide.

Now then, since this is titled “old friends AND coffee” I guess I should mention coffee a bit. Of course, I just mentioned coffee because most of my old friend’s always want to get coffee! I guess that’s because coffee dates are the thing to do in your twenty’s (and beyond). Anyway, here’s some last minute wisdom! When in doubt, ditch the phone talks for a nice heart to heart over coffee. Good company and a soothing drink are sometimes exactly what you need.

That’s all for now. Thanks for sticking with this rant and I hope you’re having a lovely morning/afternoon/evening whenever and wherever you are!

Don’t forget to seek out adventure!

xxx

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First Blogpost EVER!

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This is the first time I’ve used this blog and sadly there is not much to say. Currently I am still in the process of editing the first book as well as sending it out to a childhood friend who wanted to read it (fun fact: they inspired one of the characters).

Aside from that, I’m taking a publishing lab at my university and we just put on a huge writing conference. Though I was working, I managed to put a flea in one of the agent’s ears and received his business card. Could it lead to endless possibilities? Well maybe not. He’s not a big fan of angels. Oh well. There’s always more to seek out, more to ask about, more to hope will pick up your manuscript.

I’ve also learned quite a bit about querying agents so that’s a plus. I’m going to have to start writing my query letters soon for real. But first I should probably finishing editing the last 110 pages…

…or maybe I’ll get working on that youtube channel I wanted to start up. Yeah. Probably that due to my procrastination tendencies.

That’s all for now.

Don’t forget to seek out adventure!

xxx