Skip to content

I write a letter, from a one-way train

March 15, 2011

This is the letter that I wrote to Mark last night that I will never send. It’s raw and full of emotions. It describes how uncertain I am about my feelings, but I can never say anything to him for fear of rejection/mockery. Writing it made me feel so much better though.


Those two nights we spent together were amazing. Sadly, the girl you are in love with is all wrong for you. Your relationship with her was a horrible cycle that you can’t wrench yourself from full of heartbreak, fighting, cheating, drug-fueled rages, and make up sex that only temporarily blinds the two of you from your problems.  People don’t change, Mark. She will never change and you will be stuck in this cycle forever, and will be miserable. You made the wrong decision for yourself and your sanity when you chose to try and win her back.

Despite all of this, I’m not the girl for you. I’ve been running away from my problems for so long, and I keep praying that they never catch up with me. You were just another distraction that I let myself get close to. I should have never told you my secrets. Because of this, I thought there was a connection, while you probably thought I’m psychotic. Now I get to run away again, this time with more distractions. More mania until I crash and burn, because mornings been a long time coming. I get to leave Tennessee and leave all of my problems behind for Montana. I’ve romanticized the West to myself. It will be an adventure, and I’ll be the charming new girl in Missoula and snag myself a rugged geology major. We’ll take road trips to Calgary and Seattle. Then, when my internship is over, I’ll get to run away again to a new city and leave all of that behind.

I can tell I’m starting to fall for you, even though it’s the last thing that either of us need. You’re still in love with her, and I’m dealing with my whole life crashing down right in front of me.

Yet, I want us to be together, even though I know how stupid all of this sounds. I want to come back from Montana and be with you. Nashville is where you want to move, and I wouldn’t mind going back there for you. We could live in an old house with a leaky roof where you have to put buckets under the leaks to catch the rainwater. We would work meaningless 9 to 5 jobs and come home to each other. You would write poetry, I would work on that novel I will never finish. We would read books together. We could have amazing sex all over our dilapidated little house, then light cigarettes on the eye of the old stove. It would be perfect.  Remember, I’m small and needy, but I will love you.

This is my dream, even though I know you are not the missing ingredient in my recipe for happiness.

We will probably never speak again, and I’m alright with that. I already started running away from you the very first night, when I snuck out of your house without saying goodbye. I don’t need you. Sometimes I debate whether or not I have real feelings for you, but the answer is always maybe. The conditions are not right and I’m jumping full force into my next transient experience, praying that each one will make me forget all my pain and suffering.


No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: