December 14, 2010

Dear Charlie,

You don't know me, but I know you. I'm writing to you because of the letters you wrote almost 20 years ago. You didn't right them to me of course, I wasn't even alive yet when you wrote your letters. They eventually found their way to me anyway. I sometimes like to think that it was fate. Or maybe it was just good luck.

You are probably wondering how exactly I came to find your letters. Well you see the person who didn't sleep with that girl even though he could have, your original reader, is my father. He doesn't know I found them, though because I never told him. You see about two years ago, I was exploring my dad's new house. He had just moved again. You see what my dad used to do was buy a house, remodel it and make it generally better, and then sell it again a year or two later for more than he had paid for it.

Anyway I was exploring the new house and I noticed there was an old wooden staircase in the garage. It was one of those staircases that fold up and you need to pull down to use. Naturally I was curious to see where the stairs led. And in the attic there were a lot of boxes. The boxes of stuff that people usually don't bother unpacking when the settle into their new homes, because they contain things not needed or wanted on a regular basses. You know things like, home videos, old dolls that have long since been outgrown, cloths that no longer fit those kinds of things. And I looked in some of the boxes.

I looked in quite a few boxes that day. I don't remember every item I found of course. Anyway the point is I found your letters. My dad had kept them after all those years. Isn't that nice? I thought it was. If it wasn't for that fact I probably wouldn't have bothered to read them. I read the first few because I wanted to know why he had kept them, you see.

After the first few I could see why. And I wanted to keep reading them. So I took a few to my room, telling myself I would return them later. I didn't want my dad to know I was reading his letters after all. And I did return them eventually. I wanted to read them again and again, though. I ended typing out my own copies.

So that's how I found your letters. How did I find your email address? Sorry, that's a secret. Don't panic though; I'm not a stalker or anything, I swear.

Once I found a way to email you -through unmentionable means; again not stalking- I knew I just had to. Had to email you I mean. Because I feel a special bond with you. Even though we are technically strangers. And since I know so much about fifteen year old self- if not your present day ,what?, 35 or 36 year old self. I figured you had a right to know about fifteen year old me. But I blocked my email address from my letters. And I'm not going to tell you my real name. You already know my last name, but I will not use my first name. I'm not an only child and my name is not exactly the rarest out there so I hope this will make it that much harder for you to find me in case you try to. I hope you understand this. For you my name is to be Elizabeth. I've always liked that name. And, like you did, I will also change the names of all my friends and family and anyone else I might be talking about. I'm sure you of all people can understand this.

You already know who my dad is. You don't know where he lives anymore, though. I'm sure knowing his name, you could find me if you truly tried to. I ask you not to do that though. I would rather stay anonymous to you.

Like it helped you to know someone was listening, so I hope it will help me. I hope you don't mind too much getting letters from a kid. I have a feeling you won't mind.

Love always,

Elizabeth