Dear Whomever,

            I don't have any idea who you are, what your name is, or even if you're a guy or a girl.  You could live anywhere, or be anyone, from any background while I spend half my life assuming you were a well-adjusted geek boy from science class.  If you get this letter somehow, I hope that some part of you wants to find me.  But at the same time, I hope you never give me another thought, because I'm not right for you…or anyone for that matter.  It's strange how badly I want you to look for me, when I've stopped doing my part…I've stopped caring one way or another where you are.  Please don't take it personally, but I don't think I can be with someone the way you, as my "partner" would want me to.  I've heard enough about relationships, straight and otherwise, to know what they can do to a person, that I've stopped believing in the concept of "soul mates."  In that case, I'm not really sure who I'm writing this letter to anyway.  Just the person I'll "end up with," if I don't just end up alone with too many cats.  If you do exist, my hope is that you'll look for me, and show me that I'm wrong…and I want to be.  I just hope that you'll like me for me, and share my beliefs.  On the same note, I want you to be willing to love me as a friend and put the friendship as a priority, before the intimacy.  I don't think I could love anyone that way who I didn't love as a friend.  Besides that, even if a couple had the most hormonal relationship in existence, what would happen when you needed someone to dry your tears, or support your life goals?  A "lover" can't do that the way a friend can…and the "lover" aspect of relationships doesn't last forever, but the friendship does.  That's what keeps marriages alive, not third base.  And that's why I don't care about your race or gender.  I care more about what you believe, and that you have an open-mind.  I care that you're creative and have a sense of humor, and I care that you'll see me as something more than bragging rights and hormones.  And I care that "a hotter girl" won't take you away from me.

            Of course, sometimes when I watch myself, I wonder if my personality could really win someone over.  I doubt it.  Then again, if you read this at all, you probably don't want me.  You probably think I'm just some stupid freakish prude.  But if this letter belongs to you, then you wouldn't think that about me at all…would you?  I want you to know the good things about me, as well as the bad.  I'm a night person.  I tried Nocturnal Witchcraft, but the author believes in using your blood in rites, which I don't.  Maybe his other ideas appeal to me, but not that one.  I also want you to know that I'm not a Satanist.  I'm a Pagan, and if you don't share my beliefs I want you to accept mine because you know that they mean something to me.  I want you to love me with, not in spite of, my beliefs.  If loving me makes you feel pompous or "special" or "open-minded" then give this letter to someone else.  I don't want to be living proof of your open-mind. 

I like to write, and my genre is either angst or humor.  They seem too far between to be written by the same person…but I've found that I share my humor when I'm concerned about sharing my work, and only share angst with those I really trust.  And I trust very few people.  The fact of the matter is, my problems, joys, tears, and laughter aren't meant for the whole world to see…even those who say they're "friends." 

            Unfortunately, you'll never get to see this letter…as I have no way of sending it.  Furthermore, I don't believe that someone is actually going to love me the way they do in movies.  That type of love isn't real…real love is much more subtle, with fights over stupid things like car keys and the remote.  Real love is good for those who want it, but not good for those who don't want love to be synonymous with intimacy.  But I care about the environment and won't waste the paper I wrote this on.  This letter has to go somewhere…so I'll send it just to spite myself, to show that I've sunk low enough to start believing in the pathetic lies the media knows as romance.  But I guess instead of complaining about you not existing, I'll just wait and see who reads this.  If you exist, and you read this letter, I want you to find me.  But if not, forget it.  I've survived this long without someone, and I can survive the rest of my life without you.  But if you're real, then just maybe I don't want to.

                                                                                                            Love,

                                                                                                                Me