I remember when the chastity people came to high school (you’re thinking, “this is gonna be good…”), and they handed out loads of pamphlets, one of them being “An Open Letter to My Future Husband.” But I never liked associating with words that were not my own, particularly when I had not yet come in contact with anything that even closely resembled love. So, I’m writing my own. And at this point in life, it is now my “Not-so Open Letter.”
Today is your birthday. Happy Birthday! I have been counting down the days now, and for as much as it has been the most thrilling to live here, thrive here, gain experiences here, I am ready to not be here. I have grown, I have been challenged, I have felt blessed, gifted, befriended. I’ve felt happy. And you know, sometimes this word, happy, is hard for me to feel, although it is tossed about so often. There is something that makes me want to be with you more when I consider the growth that’s taken place within me. It’s like linked together fingers that must venture off separately until one day before you know it, you have linked together hands. It may not make much sense to some, but I like to think of it in that way. I hope and somehow know that one day we will remember the distance because there is something about feeling far that makes one feel so much closer to a person. I hope and somehow know that we are each silently celebrating the fact that three years ago I sat at home in Abington, Pennsylvania, silently anticipating my first year of college, thinking about how I’d do on my own, what I’d wear everyday, how I’d present myself, if I’d change, if I’d start partying, what my friends would be like, what the boys would be like. I laugh silently to myself at the fact that three years ago I sat silently wondering if I’d seem pretty or cool enough to anyone, even myself, I sat wondering what the boys would be like and if they’d find me pretty and cool enough. The only one to really find me to this day will say he found me interesting, above all else. Pretty and cool sat in the backseat, still gleaming, but less in view.
Some may say I am an adventurer. I am in Nepal. I love traveling in general. I just bungee jumped. Yet, I still can’t think of myself as much of the adventurer type because it’s a newer thing for me, or at least, the part of me that acts on my love for adventure–that’s new for me. You inspired a lot of this. You might know that. You gave me books to read and things to talk about that no one ever wanted to talk about before. People are afraid to talk about the big picture. People are afraid to talk about the world. Many choose not to know what’s out there. I used to think it was just because they were apathetic, but now I sometimes think it’s because they know they’ll never see it, they know they’ll never be a part of it, they’ve resigned their lives to that. That may be okay for some, but you taught me that that wasn’t okay for me. And soon, I went from wanting to just write about it, to wanting to be right in the heart of it. You told me one day we’d be right in the heart of it, soaking up the world, exploring, adventuring, meandering. I learned this early on, as we’d take walks, sometimes in the blistery cold, to no where. We’d just walk. And I liked that.
You knew from the beginning that I was an odd one. I am sometimes girly as can be. Other times I am a bit snippy, blunt, serious, stressed, tired, lazy, boisterous, and childish. Sometimes I act 40, sometimes even 80. Yeah, you know what I mean, friends who know I have back problems. But, interestingly enough, you know how to be direct, goofy, relaxed, energetic, low key, and well, childish for the sake of complimenting my moods. It’s like a color wheel and you are always the orange to my purple, and although I don’t quite understand how orange and purple can look nice together, I get how you being nice and quiet and kind totally fits, puzzle piece style, right in with my bluntness.
In many other past encounters I tended to be intimidating with guy and girls, alike. As a matter of fact, out of all my friends, I’m pretty sure 50% were terrified of me at first. I’m actually quite warm, and while I usually need to justify that to people, no justifying had to be done with you. You just got me. You dove right in and maybe thought, she seems crazy and out there and a bit feisty and loud and fairly direct, but I’m game.
I remember when the chastity people came to high school, and they handed out loads of pamphlets, one of them being “An Open Letter to My Future Husband.” But I never liked associating with words that were not my own, particularly when I had not yet come in contact with anything that even closely resembled love. Their letter was more of an instruction, paragraphs and paragraphs of things like “how to treat me.” My experience tells me that if I have to instruct you on how I want to be treated, you’re not right. But I don’t. This letter was an ultimatum, and we all have our deal breakers, but real love doesn’t involve too much of this. Real love doesn’t need a locker room pre-game warm up talk. Their letter was an open letter, and any words I have, any words I have are for you. Mine is closed. So, I’m writing my own.
I love you. And somehow you feel the same about me even though in the words of my girl, Simone de Beauvoir, “I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish… You see, it is difficult to get all which I want. And then when I do not succeed I get mad with anger.” >(This type of quoting is called nerding out Philosophy major-style)
And, if you can love that, you can do anything. You can do anything.
“You – you alone will have the stars as no one else has them…In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night…You – only you – will have stars that can laugh.”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, El Principito
And just for fun:
“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” ………Sorry, Charlie 😉
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince