Dear Rory,
When I sat down to write this letter, I was thinking that I would know exactly what to say, how to say everything I'm feeling. How to say everything I know I should say, but for some fucked up reason just couldn't.
However, I've been sitting here staring at this paper for the past ten minutes and people are starting to stare. It's alright here I guess. Lots of the people seem like caricatures. It also seems like everyone wants to be famous. And we thought that was just a cliché. I think I saw Brad Pitt, but I can't be sure. Him and Jennifer Aniston are having marital problems, did you know that? Now before you drop dead from shock due to the fact that I knew that, I should tell you that I have not inherited your fondness for insane gossip Miss Patty Jr. My dad's girlfriend buys all those magazines that boast articles on "How to Find the Best Jeans for your Butt". Mine are apparently bootcut- I have a pear shaped body.
Hopefully you at least smiled at that last sentence. I can't be sure- sometimes my advanced humor just goes straight over your head. Or maybe you didn't because you are mad at me. I don't blame you- I'd be mad at me too. I should have told you, yes. But I really did think I would just be easier for you this way. And I'm not ashamed that I did it. It was just something I had to do- just like you have to go to an Ivy League. Good luck by the way. I know you will wipe the smirks off all those plaid-wearing, trust-fund snots who think their better than you because their daddies own a pop-tart company. Actually, that person may be your new best friend- free pop tarts.
How is Lane? Tell her I said hi. I wish I could be there to see the look on her face when you tell her. Want to take a picture for me? I guess you should also tell her that's she has a pretty decent taste in music- unlike the girl who sat behind me in science at SHH (That's Star's Hollow High, in case you forgot. You know, going off to fancy school makes you forget where you came from.) If I had to listen to Baby One More Time one more time- well you know the song Jeremy by Pearl Jam? They could rename that song Jess. Has a nice ring to it, right? Hmm, that was morbid.
So, I guess I'll finally get to the topic I've been avoiding this entire letter. That was me on the phone on the day of your graduation. You probably guessed that when the person on the other end didn't interrupt your monologue. I called but I, I guess I just didn't know what to say. I kept picturing you in your cap and gown, with all your friends and family around you. I know- I should have been there. I bet you looked beautiful. After we- well you- talked I walked around a little, thought a lot, and took a picture for a Chinese couple (but I guess you didn't need to know that). I just couldn't believe that you loved me. I kept having flashbacks to all the times when I could have said it, because you know us alpha males hate when we don't do anything first ( a possible laugh there?).
When we first met- I definitely didn't know then all that's was going to happen between us, but I had a weird feeling. Not like I was telling the future or anything. I just felt a sort of tugging at my heart. Wow. I can't believe I just wrote those words, let alone even thought them. I would cross them out, but I want you to know how messed up my head is right now, so I guess they stay.
When we were in that sleigh. It was so beautiful and snowy and well, you looked like a snow angel. God, what is wrong with me? Everything I write is bullshit. Maybe I need my head examined. I think I stayed in crazy-town too long- I heard if you live in the Hollow too long you turn into Jeffery Dahmler, but that's just a rumor. Not to insult your absolute favorite place in the world and all the people in it.
Shit, I think I'm having an off day if I actually think that making a joke like that is a good idea. I have no doubt that even if I could beat up Dean, you would prove a harder fight than him.
Alright, well my hand is cramping, and my mind is finally gloriously blank. No more unnecessary thoughts jumbled around. So I guess I'll end this letter right here. Not exactly the strong ending I was hoping for. So I'm sorry for that.
I'm sorry. For everything.
-Jess