SUBJECT: Remember me?
Kid who used to get sick a lot and talk about it a lot? Used his knife as a fork backboard? Liked to go down every aisle of Costco and take the long way to the beach? Liked his desserts with the hot and the cold and had your standard, every day fruit phobia? Let his butt crack show and his opinions flow? Ring a bell? Yeah, that guy! Me… [MY NAME]!
I remember you. Yeah, I remember you well. Bites off more than she can chew. Prefers sniffles to tissues and aioli to avocado. A blotchy chest and the bum of an angel who has a great bum. Likes her goals, her goat cheese, and her pineapples. The Bachelor and the back pages of The Week. A real “runner” with a refined pallet when it comes to novels and panang curry. You? Yeah, I definitely remember you.
I… just felt like saying hi. Not fair, right? I’m allowed to drop out of the sky and say hi whenever I feel like it. And somehow, you’re not. Not allowed to Like anything I post, and then I stop posting anything and you’re like, “what is he even doing?!” and no one else really knows either so you’re just kind of left to wonder. Does he have a job? Does he have a girlfriend? Is he going crazy? Is he finally over me? Does he hate me? That doesn’t seem fair at all. I’d be like “WTF!!!” But I guess that’s how it is. Sorry about the the cookie crumbling. And also sorry that’s the situation.
Part of me feels like you deserve to know how things are going with me (if you want to), and I guess a little guilty for keeping you in the dark. Things are good here. I feel like I’ve grown up a lot during this mini Eat Pray Love tour. Eat Pray Eat would be more accurate. I love this city, no complaints. Today was maybe a little too hot, but besides that, no complaints. I have some decent friends down here but I’ve also gotten really good at spending QT with [MY NAME]. I like that guy! I’ve come a long way with him over the last year, figuring out who he is. Just overall more comfortable, calm happy and independent. Less pressure. I’ve been doing a lot of writing. It comes and goes. Sometimes I think I’m brilliant and everything I write is gold. Then I realize I I have to use more than one word. Get it? Like I’m just writing the word “gold” over and over. Oh man, I kill me.
But other times the writing is not so great. Really, it’s great or it’s not great, when you think about it. I do believe that I’m on the right track right now, but who knows. Maybe you do. I sure don’t. I guess it’s true what that wise man said about growing up when you get older. I really believe that. The older you get, the more you grow up. 2016 was a wild year for me. Only saw [HER NAME] once. Actually only saw [HER NAME] once in the last 17 months, but who’s counting (I am)? Yet, somehow, I’m still working on the ol’ [HER NAME] hangup. Every day. Yup, still there. So weird! I like that word, weird. I might start using it more. So… that’s what’s up with me.
It’s hard for me to write to you, hear from you, or see pictures of you. I’m scared I’ll learn things that I don’t want to know. But recently I’ve also been thinking life is pretty short and you’re somehow, after almost 3 years, still someone whose attention, laughs, perspective and love I crave… and someone who knows me really well. You probably understand me better now than you did three years ago, in a lot of ways. Now that you’ve gotten so wise and everything, and you can look back at things with all your wisdom. You know what they say? Do you? They say that hindsight is 20' 20" (which is really 21' 8" when you think about it, but I guess that wouldn’t be as catchy). So, things are really good… but I still can’t shake you (how the F(uck) is that possible?). My “avoid everything” strategy, at least, isn’t really working.
So does that make the effort of phasing you out of my life entirely futile? Or has it just not been enough time? I definitely don’t want to slow my (and possibly your) progress, but it’s also difficult to not have you playing at least a small part in the rest of my short life. Right? Maybe? That’s sacrificing laughs, advice, love, and support to avoid some pain and some more pain. So maybe exposure to you and some of the accompanying things I’d rather avoid is worth it? I don’t know. But… life is short.
It doesn’t make sense for me to go to [MY FORMER BEST FRIEND, HER OLDER BROTHER]’s, wedding or bachelor party, I don’t want to be a distraction for anyone. You should be allowed to do what you want (so if you have or want a date but were stressing about it, don’t worry!). It’s quite possible we don’t see each other for years and years (or ever?!). I know nothing about your life. And I definitely don’t want to mess up anything you have going on, or hold you back in any way. In other words, if you have moved on, found someone else, or just don’t think contact is a good idea… then I’m completely happy for you and completely understand. Srsly. But if not, maybe I’m thinking it’s shitty that we are “Happy Birthday” friends when you mean so much to me… especially if it’s not solving anything (aka out of sight, in mind).
As you can read, I’ve written myself in circles. What was I saying? I guess at the start of this I was thinking I’ll send you an email and see how it feels. Now it feels a bit confusing. But let’s keep it going. You don’t have things to do this week, do you? The real point of the email (in addition to saying “hi” and telling you to not stress about bachelor party or a date for [MY FORMER BEST FRIEND, HER OLDER BROTHER]’s wedding… I’m sure you weren’t stressing but just in case) was that I’ve had some dreams recently that reminded me of the way you sometimes thought of yourself, physically. How you didn’t always feel beautiful or sexy. I made a note to tell you that I hope you are, or you’re getting, better at that. Because you are those things. On the outside and the inside. And in your heart. And maybe, hopefully, you don’t need to hear that at all and this is just a wasted few lines. Maybe you’re feeling sexier than ever these days. But I woke up with the thought that I hope you’re not forgetting that you do deserve only amazing things. And you’ve forgiven yourself for whatever you need to and you’re really happy and, as much as you can, only doing things that will make you happier. Okay, that’s the corny message from the depths of my subconscious that I felt compelled to tell you.
What else? We have some time. I was actually getting drinks and playing trivia with my BFF [FORMER MBA CLASSMATE I USED TO ACTIVELY DISLIKE BECAUSE HE WOULD HIT ON MY EX WHILE WE WERE TOGETHER] the other night (you’d really like him, great guy… not sure why you had such an issue with him in LA) and you came up because I still think about you, you know, every now and again. He said he liked you and that you are “hot.” So [FORMER MBA CLASSMATE I USED TO ACTIVELY DISLIKE BECAUSE HE WOULD HIT ON MY EX WHILE WE WERE TOGETHER] agrees with my subconscious.
Speaking of my Anderson BFF’s, I went to the UT basketball game with [ANOTHER FORMER MBA CLASSMATE] last week. Before I left I was drinking a beer in front of my computer. I may have been drinking too fast because I started choking and spit out a mouthful of beer directly on to the computer. Can you believe it? The old computer has been a bit finicky ever since. So that’s the real reason I’m writing. I’m going to need you to go down to Delaware and buy me a tax-free computer. This week if possible. All because some beer said “Fuck it, I wonder what’s down the other pipe! The wrong pipe!” Smh. Thought you’d like the image of me, by myself, projectile spitting up directly on my computer. A gift from me to you. Just kidding about the tax-free computer. I like it a bit finicky. Keeps it honest.
Anything else? Oh yeah. Here’s a real doozy. On the way home for Christmas, I got in the wrong security line, the non-TSA one. Truth be told, I got confused and thought the TSA line was for transexuals only. But after I realized my mistake I said fuck it, I’ll just stay in this line because I’m early (you know me), and then a couple minutes later I forgot that I was in non-TSA and I did everything wrong (shoes, belt, laptop, water bottle). Had to wait while they did a full search on the kid who missed all of the instructions, and all 40 reminders of said instructions, while in line… but then claimed it all made sense, because he was in the wrong line to begin with. What a doozy! Actually, that whole doozy reminded me of how bad we were at security lines ([HER NAME] interjects: “I’m not bad at them! I’m really good at them!”), and how good we wanted to be. You remember that? We were so young. So naive. Especially you. You were like a little guppy. In such a big pond. Naive, but confidently naive. A self-assured naiveté. A girl who gets in the Admirals Club, but doesn’t know if the snacks are free. So she stares at them. That kind of girl. That’s who you were.
Well then. That was really something. Maybe that’s good for now. That got really real, huh? Again, I don’t have any agenda. Just felt like I had to write to you. Hope it’s not weirding you out and if it is, just disregard except for the insanely hilarious parts because… MY GOD was that funny! I’m still laughing about it myself!
PS — How are you?