Author: Sienna Harpe PM
Written as an anonymous letter. Featuring fatal flaws, honesty, anonymity, and some respectable quasi-advice.Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 2 - Words: 3,377 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 07-18-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3042997
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hi. You don't know who I am, and I certainly have no idea who the hell you are. That sounded rude. I'm sorry. But I am writing to a stranger, and I have no idea who you are.
Firstly, I should let you know that this letter thing is as much for me as it is for you. In fact, probably more for me, seeing as I care about the happenings of my life, and you most likely do not. I'm not upset by that fact. If I were to find an anonymous letter wedged into a tree, I probably wouldn't be very fascinated by the nameless person's stories.
Then again, maybe I would. It depends on the day, I guess. Okay. Here we go. First thing is first, and that is that I was born in 1996, which has set me up for failure from the start.
See, the way I look at it, I'm too late in the nineties to be a 'nineties kid' and I'm not really a daughter of the new millennium either. Everyone born in '96 and '97 and whatever, we just kind of float around in time. I guess that's kind of mysterious and cool and allows me to create my own destiny, but I also like knowing where I belong. 1996 doesn't give me much to go on.
Okay. You know what would be cool? If I retyped this on a real live typewriter. That would be pretty special, wouldn't it?
Okay. Next important thing to tell you: I'm honestly not a crazy person. It's just that when I write in this stream of consciousness style, I really sound a little bit nuts. It's just because I type things as I think of them. And they just come out sounding sort of strange.
You know what? I think that you really don't care all that much about me, so I'll write to you, too. How have you been lately, Stranger?
I'm going to make a few assumptions that are probably wrong. If you find this letter, you are in Wildwood Park. If you are running, maybe you are training for something. Are you a runner? Are you one of those determined types? Good for you, if you are. I can't run. If I were in the Hunger Games, I'd die. I'd die right off the bat.
If you aren't a runner, are you just taking a nice walk? Maybe if you're alone you're looking for some peace and thinking space. If you are trying to think, is it because you have stress? Is it because you need to release bad energy? If you are stressed and need to sort out some things, I have some advice that you've probably heard before, because I am unoriginal:
Don't worry about things you can't change. One, because you obviously can't change them, and that is a sad but true fact of life. Just let things happen and take them as they come. Be your own rock, sir or madam. (Madam is the same backwards and forwards. That's a palindrome.)
If you are walking because you enjoy walking and like peace and nature, then I hope you continue having a wonderful day.
It is difficult to write personal letters to a No Person. Not that you are a No Person, I just don't know you.
If you are walking with a lover, then I really envy you. I really do. I'm sorry to bother you on your day out. Have a nice afternoon and feel free to pitch this (recycle, actually).
If you are doing what I like to do, and are exploring solo, then I guess you'll be really excited with this discovery. I'm just saying that I would be. I love mysterious, personal things. Keep exploring because you have no idea what you will find.
If I forgot to mention your reason for wandering through Wildwood Park, then I'm sorry to pass your reason by. For whatever purpose the park is serving for you today, I hope you have a nice time.
Okay, Stranger. Back to what I was saying. I think that you are wonderful, okay? That's all I really want to say. Sometimes people don't say things like that very often. It isn't because they aren't true. It's because all people are deathly afraid of being honest. And of being vulnerable.
Also, don't worry if you're having a rough time. Want to hear a funny story?
I promised you that I'm not mad or anything, so don't assume I fell off the deep end long ago. Everyone has little oddities and quirks here and there, you know? Well, I think to compensate for being born in the undefined 1996, I like to plan everything else. I always have a plan, but I rarely know what I'm doing, mind you.
Anyways, the funny story, is that every year, I always take a little bit of time to plan what will happen in the event that I suddenly die. I'm not trying to be morbid, really. I just want to have a plan. Which songs I think would be romantic to play. Which pieces of me that people should remember, you know? See, not so morbid. But everyone who knows that I do it thinks I'm really, really strange for doing so. What do you think?
Also, Stranger, if you're having a rough patch in life, I will tell you one thing: If you feel like taking a risk, you should. There are two things that can happen: Good things, and bad things.
Of course, if you don't take a risk, no things will happen at all. I once heard this quote. It goes "There are no right or wrong choices, only other choices." I like quotes that are true. I have another story for you, Stranger. Maybe this will develop my message more clearly (listen to me try and sound important ha ha).
My grandma, when she was in her twenties, maybe twenty-one, was a very fiery and spirited woman. Her friend Dorothy bought a car for one hundred dollars, and apparently it was practically a tank. It had awful gas mileage. Dorothy asked my grandma to drive to Chicago with her. They used to live right around this area. So these two twenty-one year old young ladies were going to drive this trashy tank from Ohio to Colorado. That's a pretty unheard of thing, especially at the time. So my grandma packed up and left with her friend. Everywhere they stopped for gas, all the men said they would never make it. My grandma had to manually operate the windshield wipers with a little switch, and the thought of that is just really funny to me. My grandma's dad was really sick at the time, so my grandma felt guilty about leaving.
Well, they made it to Colorado and slept at a motel. The next morning they walked across the street and got jobs as nurses in an army hospital. My grandma visited home, and her dad was still around and all was fine and well.
I guess my point is that sometimes you really, really need to take risks. And also, people always sit around and wait for the future to happen. I kind of like the idea of just doing something once in a while.
Alright, Stranger. Are you still reading this? I just wanted to tell you that I think you're a very cool person. I cannot stress enough that people need to be told how wonderful they are. I think that's a fatal flaw of mine. Absolutely adoring every person just because they exist.
I mean, even the awful kids at school. Deep down, I really feel for them. I really want to know what happens to them, make sure they have happy lives. It's just that I always think "Hey, we're all born pretty much the same way, created using basic reproductory science, and sooner or later we're going to die." That's why it drives me nuts when some people think they're better than others, or deserve more. I think I love everyone, because I don't know what they experienced in life. If they're murderous, evil, dastardly, deplorable people, you've got to feel so sad for them. Like, what awful thing happened to you that broke you so badly?
It breaks my heart. So Stranger, I'm telling you. You are simply amazing. Don't ever forget that.
Alright, here's some more about myself. The inner feminist was brought out recently, and I'm kind of upset about a few things. Did you ever notice how important sex is in media and everything? It really bothers me. Why is sex so important? Why is a trashy girl on TV popular, and the modest girl always so awkward and shy? It's a cycle: They portray what they see in life, and we mimic what they portray.
I just don't think it's fair that I'm automatically at a disadvantage. Personally, Stranger, sex makes me uncomfortable to talk about. I'm only sixteen. I know way back when I'd probably already be married and pregnant, but it's today, and I'm still in high school. Does that make me a prude? Am I naïve for not being so public about private things? It really bothers me. Maybe I'm just hopelessly old-fashioned. Maybe I'm just so socially behind that I don't get it yet. I've never even kissed a boy, stranger. Or a girl. Maybe that means I just don't know?
See, you probably don't think liking boys and girls is a big deal. At least, I'm going to assume you don't. I don't think it's a big deal. I don't think it makes me any different, truly. Yet, I suppose a lot of people would panic. It's a really crazy world, stranger. We can change our faces, and our clothes, and our bodies, and our friends, and our husbands and wives, and our position in society, but if someone starts talking about sexuality, there's a big problem, you know? Crazy world, I tell you.
Oh wow, Stranger. I'm taking up a lot more of your time that I had hoped I would. You want to know what would be funny? If I made this look very ornate with tea stains and burnt corners. That would be clever. Maybe I'll do that.
Stranger, don't ever forget that you are one of the most attractive people I have ever heard of. People never say that too often either. It's not because it's not true. It's just that they're scared. I said this all before. But really, if a person doesn't hear anyone tell them that they are nice looking, bad thoughts can get in the way.
You know, Stranger, I'm kind of sick of image. I know that's hypocritical coming from me. But I really am sick of image. Did you know that I was anorexic, Stranger? Of course you didn't. But I was, and it drove me absolutely nuts. I don't really like to talk about it.
I just want you to know that you, Stranger, are beautiful. You know what? Here's some more good advice:
Weather the storm, Stranger. It's going to pass soon.
Even if you aren't in a storm right now, just know that everything bad will pass, so don't worry. I hate it when people start to worry about needless and unavoidable things.
That's so hypocritical, coming from me. I can't even get past the fact that I'm getting my wisdom teeth out. Did you wince as you read that? Because I winced as I typed it. See, I don't know why I'm worrying so much, though. Naturally it's unpleasant, but I've got to get it through my head that it has to happen and that afterward, life will go on as normal.
I know that deep down, Stranger, I really do. But it still terrifies me. I'm afraid of the dentist, just so you know. I really am. I can wander through an old and creaky house in the middle of the night, and I can ski Olympic courses, and I can hold snakes, and I can do all sorts of things, but I really can't get past the dentist. Terrified, I tell you.
I guess I wouldn't blame you if you were laughing right now. We all have our irrational fears. You've just got to not worry. Save your worrying for something worthwhile.
I used to worry all the time about grades and my image and whatnot, and when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, all of that worry about trivial things went away. Save your worry. I'm not saying someone you know will become gravely ill, I'm just saying to put things into perspective.
I'm making a mess of words. She's okay now, by the way. She's better than okay. Stranger, I'm really glad you found this. I really, really am. You know, by the time you read this, my wisdom teeth will be out and over with. Isn't that funny? And here I am, freaking out about it. That's funny.
I'm worrying again. I should take my own advice.
Alright, Stranger. Well, I'm running out of worthwhile things to tell you. You know, I read this book a long time ago, Stranger, and I'm sure you'll know what it is when I quote it:
We accept the love we think we deserve.
That really is so true. Stranger, no matter what anyone tells you, especially yourself, you deserve so much love. I always think that I don't deserve love. But everyone does. I love you and I love everyone, really. I think I'm going to wrap up this letter and let you be on your way.
It really was so nice that you read this. I'm very happy that there are considerate people like you in the world.
And if you think that I'm crazy and are making fun of this letter right now, then I'm so glad I had the chance to entertain you. It's always a pleasure of mine.
Alright Stranger. I have things to do, and you do as well. You know, I don't think we'll ever really meet, and I think we'd be good friends, but that's not going to happen in this lifetime. After knowing the few secret things about me that you now do, I think it's better that we have no idea who each other really is. I'll miss this, Stranger.
Have a beautiful day.