Sunday, September 17, 2023

Notes to a girl who will never read them

It’s come to my attention that you’re doing something silly.

And yes I know to write this is to put it all out there; to relinquish all power, to become subject to the universes' power of ridicule. To have friends say “Aw” out loud and “Ugh” inside.

But I’m sorry this is a tragedy, and I don't care. This is the Hindenburg, and I’m on the radio:

“Oh the humanity”!

Please don’t marry a man after two months of flowers.

Even if he is nice, and sweet, and so well adjusted.

I don’t want the fish just on weekends.

We changed something in each other.

We looked at maps, and we tried new and greasy foods.

I made stories for your dresses.

You introduced me to peanuts in a wonderful new way.

Beat me at Trivial Pursuit and make me you love for it.

Teach me a fact about dolphins. Anything. I don’t care!

I’m sorry I told you the story about the lost little girl when we were driving on that mountain road that night.

I’m sorry for thinking so much

I’m sorry for comparing you to the old version of "BBQ Corn Nuts".

I’m sorry for saying sorry so much.

Let’s make comedy together.

Let’s read on the couch.

Let’s make up jokes about new cell phone technology as I wow you with my average cooking.

Let’s give each other flowers that don’t wilt in a week as we explore new frontiers of West Virginian subculture.

By the way the blue people aren’t there, they’re here, in my bedroom as I type this, and they (being me) know how cheesy that joke was.

Teach me to sew so I can finally put that button on this orange shirt I love.

Let’s walk at night in foreign places.

Let’s travel to Thailand; to Alaska, to Akron, Ohio. It will be an adventure.

Let’s throw rocks at water towers.

Let’s watch light pool into the park at midnight as we laugh at the kids that remind us of us.

Let me write songs for you and not have to wonder if you’ll ever hear them.

Let’s make fun of people who write cheesy letters to lost loves.

You and I have an understanding of each other, and for that lovely reason here this is:

I’m pretty sure I need you.

Need me too.

But maybe you’ll never read this.