11:32 am April 7
M -
I'm writing to you from my bedroom at our new house. I should probably be sleeping because I'm taking my ACT in the morning and then going, late, to work. But I'm really not tired.
Our new house is nice. It is a lot bigger than our old one was. It has a garage, more rooms, two floors and a basement, a sun porch, windows that won't open, and a evil energy that will deteriorate your soul if you ever try to introvert here, I hate this place. But I don't spend a lot of time here. Usually just to sleep.
I am listening to cars peel out on Broadway, my room is never darker than a dim glow from the streetlights and signs. Makes it a little hard to sleep.
I finally have my parents believing that I'll probably be home whenever I like, now. I plan on moving out this summer. I'm not sure where . I suppose it's a little strange that I'm taking the ACT right now. I don't plan to need it for quite a while. J is finally going to take his though. He's going to PSU this fall. I saw his apartment today. It's small, but he lives close to the coffee shop h works at. We have two coffee shops now.
I went to a meeting at one of them the other day. Something about getting art out into the community.
Anyway
After the meeting Db (if you don't know who these people are, just pretend you do. It's not that exciting to explain) told me that Np was speaking at the next meeting. Db had heard from someone that I was a good poet and wanted e to read at the next meeting. My first publicity.
The poetry you sent me was very good. Since much of it was about love in one way or another, I'll share a love story of mine with you.
Chapter I
Sometime in early February I saw P again. After speaking to each other in tones somewhere between "I missed you" and "I'm sorry we never fucked" and we ended up kissing before I left and I drove back home thinking "I don't feel that way about her anymore."
Chapter II
I had been hanging out at *'s house quite often. The thing with P happened a week ago, but was over by now. So, I'm at *'s house and that night we ended up kissing, a lot. We start going out. A month later I write a poem for her. A rather good one I believe, even for a love poem. "Love" a word I don't often use. Anyway, we both have been quite happy so far. I lose my virginity to her. She says she loves me. The day before (I leave with several friends) for Spring Break, * does a good job of ignoring me. After we get back, she does an even better job of it until I talked to her about it last Monday. She says she just wants to date me rather than have a relationship.
Epilogue
I pretend that I am alright with this for two days. Wednesday night I talk to her again. We break up. I spend a long time (still am) wishing that memories didn't exist.
11:20 pm April 9 OK I just realized that what I wrote Friday sounds somewhat neurotic. But anyway I took my ACT and I knew most of it but I kept running out of time. I suppose I could be a truck driver.
This letter probably won't be done for a day or two. My letters are usually a work-in-progress for a while. We've got the windows open in the house now. I think eating sponges would be good for you digestive system. Sorry, I'm mocking my own writing.
I'm having another poetry reading on Friday the 14th. Good Friday as well. Maybe we'll crucify something. But if you can possibly come to Pittsburg Friday please do. You write beautifully and I want to talk to you again. I've missed you.
-E
M -
I'm writing to you from my bedroom at our new house. I should probably be sleeping because I'm taking my ACT in the morning and then going, late, to work. But I'm really not tired.
Our new house is nice. It is a lot bigger than our old one was. It has a garage, more rooms, two floors and a basement, a sun porch, windows that won't open, and a evil energy that will deteriorate your soul if you ever try to introvert here, I hate this place. But I don't spend a lot of time here. Usually just to sleep.
I am listening to cars peel out on Broadway, my room is never darker than a dim glow from the streetlights and signs. Makes it a little hard to sleep.
I finally have my parents believing that I'll probably be home whenever I like, now. I plan on moving out this summer. I'm not sure where . I suppose it's a little strange that I'm taking the ACT right now. I don't plan to need it for quite a while. J is finally going to take his though. He's going to PSU this fall. I saw his apartment today. It's small, but he lives close to the coffee shop h works at. We have two coffee shops now.
I went to a meeting at one of them the other day. Something about getting art out into the community.
Anyway
After the meeting Db (if you don't know who these people are, just pretend you do. It's not that exciting to explain) told me that Np was speaking at the next meeting. Db had heard from someone that I was a good poet and wanted e to read at the next meeting. My first publicity.
The poetry you sent me was very good. Since much of it was about love in one way or another, I'll share a love story of mine with you.
Chapter I
Sometime in early February I saw P again. After speaking to each other in tones somewhere between "I missed you" and "I'm sorry we never fucked" and we ended up kissing before I left and I drove back home thinking "I don't feel that way about her anymore."
Chapter II
I had been hanging out at *'s house quite often. The thing with P happened a week ago, but was over by now. So, I'm at *'s house and that night we ended up kissing, a lot. We start going out. A month later I write a poem for her. A rather good one I believe, even for a love poem. "Love" a word I don't often use. Anyway, we both have been quite happy so far. I lose my virginity to her. She says she loves me. The day before (I leave with several friends) for Spring Break, * does a good job of ignoring me. After we get back, she does an even better job of it until I talked to her about it last Monday. She says she just wants to date me rather than have a relationship.
Epilogue
I pretend that I am alright with this for two days. Wednesday night I talk to her again. We break up. I spend a long time (still am) wishing that memories didn't exist.
11:20 pm April 9 OK I just realized that what I wrote Friday sounds somewhat neurotic. But anyway I took my ACT and I knew most of it but I kept running out of time. I suppose I could be a truck driver.
This letter probably won't be done for a day or two. My letters are usually a work-in-progress for a while. We've got the windows open in the house now. I think eating sponges would be good for you digestive system. Sorry, I'm mocking my own writing.
I'm having another poetry reading on Friday the 14th. Good Friday as well. Maybe we'll crucify something. But if you can possibly come to Pittsburg Friday please do. You write beautifully and I want to talk to you again. I've missed you.
-E
posted by Mermaid at 11:53 PM
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