Itinerantdaughter's Blog

As many of you will remember, a few weeks ago my roommate LB (otherwise known as RG) received a very sad and creepy note from a fellow who has apparently been harboring feelings for her for about eight years.  And today –– lucky for us, but not so much for him –– he gave the correspondence, as of yet unrequited, a second shot!  Important to note before reading that she doesn’t now nor has ever spoken Spanish, and also that yes, this communication is taking place via the messenging system on Last.fm.

“I am so sorry if I didn’t write you long ago.  If you expected an email from me for years after we exchanged addresses, I’m really sorry about that.  I didn’t even notice how many years had gone by.  I thought I would write you when something worked out in my life and things were good for me, and that didn’t happen so I just kept working.

I think you told me you made jewelry then, so I’m glad that’s going well for you.  =)

Anyway, I saw that picture of you with the bulldog drawing when I looked for you and… I remember the way you looked and the way you saw me.  And I don’t… I mean it was so many years ago and we talked so little that, well, you probably think its silly that I remember you and maybe it is.  But if its not, I hope you’ll write me or find me some day, even if I change my name.  Maybe if I lose myself you could remind me of the person I used to be.  If you knew then. You’re kind of my last memory. 😉

That’s what I’d like to say anyway.  But its been so long.

I remember you were pretty and you were good with languages.  And I liked your eyes.  That’s why I liked you.  I thought maybe we could understand each other. Spanish isn’t my favorite language, but I could see it as beautiful if you did, at the time.  😉  But you were seeing someone and so I thought I’d write you later or some day.

Now, so much has passed and I’m starting to figure out that for normal people, 8 years or whatever is a really long time and nobody remembers anything, too busy taking what they can get while the getting is good.  I don’t think anyone thinks that there’s something that’s right, I don’t even know if I do anymore.

Anyway, we didn’t really talk that much so I don’t know what kind of person you are or whether we’d get along or anything, it was just that one conversation really in whatever that castle dorm place was called.  Manor… I guess and that other conversation earlier but…

So yeah.  If you remember me, write me.  Don’t wait years like I did, thinking there’s a right time.  You should write me now, JUST in case, and we should talk, so maybe we might get to know each other and keep in touch before things are too different for us.”

I’m on an e-mailing list for a Catholic Church in the East Village (don’t ask) and their newsletter last week begins: LENT IS ON!  Don’t I know it, Jesus! What are you giving up?  I’m giving up socializing.