To Whom It May Concern:
Dearest Reader,
When I picture you, you're at a desk. Hopefully you are fortunate enough to be elsewhere, like under a 100 year old tree in a part of the world where the breeze is warm, the grass needs cutting, and the feel of the bark at your back is as hospitable and trustworthy as it could be at 100 years of age. But under my suspicion, we are in someway similar to each other. It's more likely you are contained between four walls in a slightly uncomfortable chair and you freeze even at the thought of going back outside because the snow ball from hell came back from it's spring vacation, however short it had been. That being said, I guess my hope for you is that within your four walls, there is a window.
Now that I have you here, I have a confession. My name isn't Ann Cost, shocker, I know. As much as I wish it was, Ann Cost is actually a character I had created in a NaNoWriMo tribute in high school for my English class. I have now adopted the name as my pen name.
The text she inhabited only consisted of twelve pages. Within those twelve, she was daring, witty, and honestly, the best version of myself. She would sleuth along side a character named Jimmy Devly, a young writer searching for inspiration, and Morgan Gren, who was sort of a sheep, truth be told. These twelve pages were crafted in freedom because the only way my teacher could grade it was by word count. (This many words gets you a C and so on.) But the longer I wrote, the more attached to the characters I became and my mission evolved. If I was going to write, I was going to write well.
And so I edit and rewrite. I learned I could say more with fewer more vivid words but, that left me with fewer words. I emailed it to my teacher anyway. By this time, because of my editing and rewriting, the month was over and I had to turn it in anyway.
Feeling the weight of my grade being, for a lack of a better word, doomed, I went to bed dreading make up assignments and feeling so stupid for not just repeating what everyone else did. Which was what I thought of as very very very very lame.
The next day I received an email. It was from Mr. Palmerton my English teacher about my NaNoWriMo assignment.
Good work. You are very talented. I enjoyed what I read.
Your grade = B
I know you were a bit short of the word count for this, but I think you deserve an upgrade.
That was it. Having never getting praise from a teacher in my whole adolescent career before this email, it opened a window for me. I can do what I love really well and it was different.
This is how I connect to the world, to all the people just like me in contents of their four walls. I hope for all of you that you have a window too.
Sincerely,
Ann Cost
iApologize
From: Eli_the_Ox@me.com
To: Ragamuffin_Al@me.com
Subject: Us
Al, I’m going to save you the trouble of having to read over a hundred lines of apologies from me and get to the point. I’ve loved you for over four years and, even though I pretty much destroyed any semblance of a relationship we had, I refuse to give up on myself and you. I know that I don’t deserve you, and you deserve someone better than me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore. It would be impossible for me to stop loving you. Which means I’m going to keep pursuing you, keep chasing you, keep trying to deserve your love again – I’ll never give up. Wherever you are, I want to be there. I know that sounds like I’m your new stalker, but regardless, I’m just trying to tell you that I love you, and I’ll do anything or sacrifice everything to be with you. I love you – I can’t say it enough – I LOVE YOU.
I don’t want to presume that you’ll even forgive me, but still, I will wait here until you do.
Sincerely and always yours,
Eli
From: Ragamuffin_Al@me.com
To: Eli_the_Ox@me.com
Subject: Re: Us
Eli, If I could take it back, I would have never said “Hi” to you that first day of high school. If I could take it back, I would have never kissed you back or told you that I loved you.
These are lies, Eli. I love you, and I don’t regret anything I’ve said or done regarding you (including punching you). I do wish you hadn’t have hurt me. Things would be so much easier. But you did hurt me. I’m a forgiving person, and I don’t believe in the forgive but not forget sentiment, but that doesn’t mean my wounds don’t need time to heal. What happens when they do heal? Do I just allow you back into my life?
I don’t know yet. We’ll just have to see when we get there.
From: Eli_the_Ox@me.com
To: Ragamuffin_Al@me.com
Subject: Re: Re: Us
I’ll take it.
A Noble Coward
He sits in a prison of his making, buried under the weight of unseen shadows, and dogged by mistakes of a past his present self will not acknowledge. A man in fear for his life, in fear of his wife, a man about to take his life, or just a man and nothing but. He is me, and I am him. A person apart from him, a sole piece of him, and just like him, I am a coward. I fear many things but suffer from an even greater fear: the fear of one’s self. I hide behind a vacuous smile and hollow eyes in fear that expressing my opinions might inflict pain on another. I avoid my feelings as in my emotions is a dangerous place to be. I am afraid that in my constant neglect of honesty and openness I have rendered myself incapable of articulation. I fear that I will never be able to direct my life’s story and not be threatened or guilted into it as I have been all my life. I lack the courage to stand up to the wielders of my freedom, to stand up to the jailers in my mind, and my imaginary oppressors. I believe I am capable of doing so but doubt the righteousness of the act, plagued by a faulty moral compass that presents itself whenever it chooses. I fear the freedom I hope to own as my heart is now fettered to fear.
How do you cut off
The rage and the hate
That had you locked up
How do you cut off
The painful embrace
That wants you fucked up
Turn the months back
And it's winter
Now it's your
Time of the year
How do you tell
The one you have left
That now it's goodbye
How do you tell
The one you can't trust
It's eye for an eye
Turn the months back
And it's summer
It's not your
Time of the year
How do you cope
With words that condemn
And gave you away
How do you cope with
The lies that were told
And kept love at bay
Turn the months back
And it's autumn
Now it's my
Time of the year
How do you give up
The years that you tried
And haven't forgot
How do you give up
The grudge that you held
But it's said "judge not"
Turn the months back
And it's springtime
And it's our
Time of the year
Say I'm evil
I'm a threat
I'm a killer
That I'm
The one they should fear
What's one more tear?
