Bottled Up
Help Me, Rhonda,
Help me with this broken heart. I keep thinking, Wouldn't It Be Nice if this finds its way into your hands? My heart is turning into broken glass and a million pieces it may turn into. Every day, I miss being your Surfer Girl, and even more so, you being mine. I know you have heard rumors that I Get Around, but Don't Worry, Baby! I have only ever had eyes for the one whose possess shimmering translucence as clear as the ocean waves at midnight. And, God Only Knows how much I miss your fun and the pureness of your unfailing heart. I keep remembering how we had such Good Vibrations. Chuckling at our private jokes, crying when no one but us understood these feelings. I miss when we used to ride around in your dad's favorite convertible. Heading up to the beach, just so we could Dance, Dance, Dance the night away, until the sunrise beckoned us to leave. I beg for you to understand, the moon no longer lights up the night when you are not with me. And I am sure you probably meet all kinds of other California Girls, but know you possess my heart and soul, as it is yours only. I hope this bottled letter reaches you on a random shoreline washing the sand away. Open it up, and feel my words inside. Inside a place, we both wish we did not have to hide.
Forever yours,
-Barbara Ann