A Life In Letters

Dearest Reader,

You may be taken back by the new appearance of A Life In Letters, but let me explain. I was so excited about the release of WordPress 2.5, and it’s complete overhaul of the user interface that I was inspired to do the same with ALIL. I hope you enjoy it. Regularly scheduled letters to return tomorrow.

Sincerely,
NightWriter

P.S- The announcement of March’s “Your Life In Letters” contest is scheduled for the 1st of April!

Original Photo by linnybinnypix

Dear Steph,

This is an update on my secret crush, we’ll call him Jack. No progress. A part of me is unhappy with this, but another part of me is happy. This part is the part of me that seeks to protect myself from pain and sorrow and heartbreak. this is the part of me that only sees the negative side of things. The part of me that overlooks the happiness and joy that could occur from a relationship.

I know you like details and visualization, but since a picture of him is out of the question, I thought I’d describe him to you. He has jet black hair, mahogany eyes, and can make me laugh with the simplest look. Sometimes, if my hand brushes up against him for even the slightest moment, an electrical bolt of joy rushes through my entire body. His smile warms my heart, and the sound of his laughter is like music to my ears.

I find myself praying for every moment with him to last an eternity. Every time I look at him, I get “butterflies” in my stomach. I don’t know what’s come over me, I’ve been bitten, or infected by some rare illness; for which there is no cure. How can something so simple be so complicated?

Sincerely,
NightWriter

Original Photo By ZoofyTheJinx
Dear Father,

You probably have no idea I exist. I am told that you rapped my mother, and I am the aftermath, if you will, of the rape. I can not speak for my mother, but I have forgiven you for your action. In fact, i open my heart and soul to you. Wherever you are in this world, that is, if you are still alive, I would like to meet you. I would like to get to know you, and I hope that you would like to know me as well.

I have reached the point in life where I don’t necessarily need you, but still, it would be pleasant to meet you. Even if you are not the fairy tale, story book father that every little girl deserves, I still want to know you. Because at this very moment in time, I am lost. There is a large, deep hole in my very being that eats at me day after day. A feel it’s emptiness, and know that it exists because of you. Or rather, the lack of you.

A part of me is missing, the puzzle is incomplete. And there is nothing I can do about it. There’s nothing anyone can do about it. I don’t even know your name.

I am writing this letter as a form of prayer. Hopefully, from my mouth to God’s ear. So that, by some magnificent miracle, you should come across it and become compelled to know your daughter. Because whether you know it or not, I exist. I am here, I am a part of you. But how do I know when to open the door, if you don’t ring the doorbell?

Sincerely,
NightWriter

Photo By rhermans

Dear Aunt V,

I was under the impression that when we moved out of the house we were ending all contact with Uncle G. Instead, you spend 3-4 days out of the week at his apartment. And my mother and I know that you are giving him money to help with his rent and other bills. If this is what you have chosen then we ask but one thing. Do not come to us for money to help you support that giant beer bottle.

We were supposed to be running away from him. We were supposed to be starting a new, peaceful, life. But how can we when there still exists the possibility of him being in our lives?

I will find a full time job like you want me to, but not so I can help you pay his bills. I know you have helped a lot along the way, but if you think that for one second I will aid you in this discretion, you are sadly mistaken. Once I find a job that provides me the opportunity to move out, I will.

If I can I will still help you with your rent, and I still plan to go back to school. I simply can not live with threat of that man walking back into my life. And please, when you are on the phone with him, do not hand me th phone to talk to him. He is dead to me.

Sincerely,
NightWriter