Hello?
By: Helene
Standard disclaimer applies
Umm... Hello? Ay, since this is a letter, it should be started with a "hello",
for I lack the courage to call you "dear". So "Hello" it is.
Hello.
How are you? Nay, what a dull question to ask when what I really want to know
is whether you hold me dear and account me important. Yet, the genre norms
conspire against me, and I have to abide by the standards I did not set.
How are you? How fares the one who has enchanted me with a mere smile and a
suave voice? What thoughts siege your brain on waking, and what dreams sooth
the cares when you fall asleep? Do you ever think of me? And if you do, why
don't you give me a sign? A cue, a hint, a word, a breath, anything to let me
know that you do care...
Here I go again, blubbering on, firing questions without regard for the comfort
of my addressee. Is this making you uncomfortable in any way? If it is,
discontinue reading this jumble of words and letters. Anyway, after so much
time I have only the slightest hope that it might mean anything to you.
I guess that by now you have guessed what this is all about, haven't you? But
of course you have. You're so bright, everybody keeps telling me so. I think
they believe me stupid enough not to have noticed. But I notice things about
you. Rather, I used to notice them when you were around, and now the meager
memories come unbidden to burden me even further, since for all my sunny attitude
I do not control my life. Other people do, ones that I have duties to.
But I didn't write to you to awaken your sympathy. I don't need anybody's sympathy.
Affection and encouragement, these are what my soul feeds by, not pity and
superficial understanding.
And yet, from you I want something else. Something more tangible, something more
desired, the ethereally real emotion, described by each and every poet in this
world. The feeling that haunts me day and night, bringing me the epiphany of
happiness, I want you to experience that. And, since I am selfish, I want you to
experience that with me.
Every time I remember how it happened I feel a wistful smile impose itself upon my
face. Yours was not wistful. I do remember it in detail. No matter how many math
equations I may learn and forget in a single week, your smile will never slip from
my memory.
We were sitting in the cafe that day when you and your friend had treated me to dinner.
I was this close to spacing out, but then I sensed something that drew my attention to
the world around me rather than to the mysterious dream world I frequent given the
opportunity (how I yearn to visit it with you).
Anyway, I looked down to see your smiling face, your eyes twinkling with mischievous
gentleness, staring straight into my fantasies. "What?!" I exclaimed, half annoyed at
having to go without my day-dreaming dose, and half ecstatic to have you of all people
regard me that way. You didn't say a word, just continued to gaze at me, as if fascinated
or something. Were you really fascinated? Please, please tell me, for I need to know.
But you won't, will you? The time when you kept your eyes trained on me, trying not to
loose me, is long since gone. You won't come up to me, saying you'd feel more comfortable
with me in sight even though you trusted me not to... umm... fail to find my way? That doesn't
seem to matter anymore, as I don't even know where you are and who is keeping you company.
Nevertheless, I hope this does reach you somehow. If World Wide Web is really as worldwide as
my friend Amy believes it to be, it will, for I will post it at every available forum, and
repost until I get an answer. When we were torn apart that day, the sky blue and unblemished
around us, irresponsive to our pain, I've sworn to somehow get you back. I've given the oath
to myself and to my friends that I will be happy, and I shall. You will find your way to me
again, and make me happy, won't you? Will you?
By: Helene
Standard disclaimer applies
Umm... Hello? Ay, since this is a letter, it should be started with a "hello",
for I lack the courage to call you "dear". So "Hello" it is.
Hello.
How are you? Nay, what a dull question to ask when what I really want to know
is whether you hold me dear and account me important. Yet, the genre norms
conspire against me, and I have to abide by the standards I did not set.
How are you? How fares the one who has enchanted me with a mere smile and a
suave voice? What thoughts siege your brain on waking, and what dreams sooth
the cares when you fall asleep? Do you ever think of me? And if you do, why
don't you give me a sign? A cue, a hint, a word, a breath, anything to let me
know that you do care...
Here I go again, blubbering on, firing questions without regard for the comfort
of my addressee. Is this making you uncomfortable in any way? If it is,
discontinue reading this jumble of words and letters. Anyway, after so much
time I have only the slightest hope that it might mean anything to you.
I guess that by now you have guessed what this is all about, haven't you? But
of course you have. You're so bright, everybody keeps telling me so. I think
they believe me stupid enough not to have noticed. But I notice things about
you. Rather, I used to notice them when you were around, and now the meager
memories come unbidden to burden me even further, since for all my sunny attitude
I do not control my life. Other people do, ones that I have duties to.
But I didn't write to you to awaken your sympathy. I don't need anybody's sympathy.
Affection and encouragement, these are what my soul feeds by, not pity and
superficial understanding.
And yet, from you I want something else. Something more tangible, something more
desired, the ethereally real emotion, described by each and every poet in this
world. The feeling that haunts me day and night, bringing me the epiphany of
happiness, I want you to experience that. And, since I am selfish, I want you to
experience that with me.
Every time I remember how it happened I feel a wistful smile impose itself upon my
face. Yours was not wistful. I do remember it in detail. No matter how many math
equations I may learn and forget in a single week, your smile will never slip from
my memory.
We were sitting in the cafe that day when you and your friend had treated me to dinner.
I was this close to spacing out, but then I sensed something that drew my attention to
the world around me rather than to the mysterious dream world I frequent given the
opportunity (how I yearn to visit it with you).
Anyway, I looked down to see your smiling face, your eyes twinkling with mischievous
gentleness, staring straight into my fantasies. "What?!" I exclaimed, half annoyed at
having to go without my day-dreaming dose, and half ecstatic to have you of all people
regard me that way. You didn't say a word, just continued to gaze at me, as if fascinated
or something. Were you really fascinated? Please, please tell me, for I need to know.
But you won't, will you? The time when you kept your eyes trained on me, trying not to
loose me, is long since gone. You won't come up to me, saying you'd feel more comfortable
with me in sight even though you trusted me not to... umm... fail to find my way? That doesn't
seem to matter anymore, as I don't even know where you are and who is keeping you company.
Nevertheless, I hope this does reach you somehow. If World Wide Web is really as worldwide as
my friend Amy believes it to be, it will, for I will post it at every available forum, and
repost until I get an answer. When we were torn apart that day, the sky blue and unblemished
around us, irresponsive to our pain, I've sworn to somehow get you back. I've given the oath
to myself and to my friends that I will be happy, and I shall. You will find your way to me
again, and make me happy, won't you? Will you?