My Open Letters – The First

So the past few weeks I’ve actually be writing letters as a way to provide therapy to myself and actually process things in my life. Essentially these letters are a bit like what I used to do with pacing around a room and talking to myself. Which sounds worse than it actually is because we have some kind of social stigma around talking to yourself. It lets me talk things out without actually having to talk to anyone, which means I’m more open and honest.

This also means I have a series of significantly long letters, which I’ve written essentially to someone. Some of it reveals a bit about me, and my past. Names have been redacted for the most part. The following letter was originally written with the intent to sent it to the person it was written to, however the letters after that were written because I felt relieved after writing this first one.

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Dear ——-,

I think a lot of people often want to know when something in their past is real. Or more specifically, they know the things that they shared with other people are real when those people can recall them and talk about them. That’s why the thing everyone always says when they feel they’ve known someone, and shared their life with them, and that person betrays them or lies to them, is: Was any of it real?

It’s not because of the lies. It’s that suddenly they aren’t sure they know this person. They aren’t sure if anything they remember is actually true or real and they have to ask the one person who could know. Even though that person deceived them, it doesn’t matter. They just have to know if any of it was real, if it was just something they fabricated in their mind. Because deep down, we all know we are crazy. We all have those things in our lives that no one can say happened, except us.

I think that’s really why humans are such social creatures. We have to be social so we can determine what is based in reality, and what is fabricated in our thoughts and memories. There’s even been scientific proof of this, and it’s fascinating. Leaving people in solitary, they go crazy. In stories, there’s always that tale about the hermit, out in the wild or hidden away in some hut. They’re always portrayed as crazy.

Except one.

Garrett, from what is one of your treasured movies, not favorite, Quest for Camelot. It’s a rare character, in fact. It’s sad to think that the first real time you had exposed me to it I was pushed off somewhere between dreamland and reality. That whole night was a bit of a blur, but I can remember some of it.

Garrett was a hermit, one that lived off the land, had an animal companion, and was blind, but most certainly not crazy. But there’s a reason for it. All the crazy people never had animals. Garrett did. A faithful, loving, animal, that protected him and he protected in return. He’s a good hermit, a good person. And I can see why this movie is important to you. It’s not just a brilliant story (which is apparently adapted from a book), it has a lot of things that connect and ring with you. And I trampled over that. I didn’t give it the respect it deserved at the time.

It’s characters like Garrett that always make me step somewhere between the male and female. I can ring with that character, I can connect with him. I’d be happy with his life. Blind and all. And that’s probably why I’m focusing on him, despite him not actually being the whole story. Kayley has a lot of power too. And especially both of them together, because they have a strong romance. They don’t end the story with both of them getting married or anything like that, in fact it made fun of it. But it was still a relationship.

I couldn’t understand what you meant, about how things might have been different if we were friends longer. But looking at this movie, it makes a lot of sense. I know, I’ve probably psycho-analyzed you before, it’s a large reason I never became a psychology major, I’d just be impossible to deal with. But I’ve always been a firm believer that the fiction you grow up with largely molds who you are in life. It doesn’t have massive direct impacts on people until later in life when they take the smallest things they discover from a story and run with it. Instead you’ll see the subconscious stuff from the younger year fiction.

I know you didn’t love me. And I don’t feel bad about that. Because the love doesn’t matter. It has no impact other than what you give it. Some people give love a lot of power, and others not so much. I do know you cared about me. And looking at this movie, and what you said; that things might have been different if we were friends. It was your way of saying that I was the Garrett you were looking for, even before you knew you were looking for it. But, the story wasn’t going in the right direction.

I wish we could really say that if we had just stayed friends longer, or not defined the relationship that it would have gone different. But I can’t know, I can only guess on what I’d gone through before. And every other relationship… they’ve all tossed me aside. And I don’t blame them. If we had stayed friends, we both know it would have just turned into some terrible ‘chick-flick’ as you called them. With the friend pining and the receiver of the pining never paying attention while focusing on some other hot person. We know this would have happened, because in a way it was turning into that in the past few months.

Looking back, there’s a Tegan and Sara song that fits this, it’s actually called ‘I couldn’t be your friend’. It’s a good song, about the fact that sometimes, even when people just clicked and enjoyed a romance with each other, it doesn’t mean they can be friends. Maybe they were the best of friends when involved, but going from a romance to friendship is a radical change. The dynamics between a relationship switch, and there’s always still feelings, physical or otherwise that linger. We know, we tried it. It went well, if being friends normally entails ending up ‘in chair’ together.

It’s not a bad thing, either. I’m sure you’d agree. Except when it comes to maintaining a connection. We can’t meet in person without being absolutely cold/total strangers to each other or ending up in each other’s laps, and we can’t chat on the phone because that takes time, time that has to go to other people who have easier ways of you connecting with them. We can’t text for the same reason. It doesn’t leave much. Really, it leaves nothing. The very nature of where our ‘relationship’ has gone means the only thing we can talk about is the animal companion we have in common.

And that’s why I have to thank Garrett, and the hawk that stayed with him because, I’d like to think that if Garrett and Kayley ended up in the same situation as us, he’d spend his days in the forest and every once in a while, he’d send a letter to Kayley. Whether she sent one back or not didn’t matter. It was leaving a line of communication open. It’s a hard line to keep open, since it could end up relying solely on one person actually having the energy to do it. But even without a reply, I can see why it would be useful. It would be powerful. Writing this, for some reason, makes me feel like I’m still talking to you, still interacting with you. Even if I never send it, even if I never hear from you, even if worst of all, you tell me to not send you these letters.

This is the only line of communication I can think to keep open. I won’t tell you I love you. I won’t tell you I miss you. Those are just words that will make you feel bad, and make it seem like I’m trying to manipulate you into interacting with me. I’m not. Chances are, I’ll be too much of a coward to even send this letter, or any of the others.

This letter is more for me than anything; all of them. I have so many things I’ve wanted to say to you. So many things I can’t say. But I can write them. A lot of it is reflections on my life with you. A therapy in a way, because it’s been too long and I’m still crying while writing this, and it has to come out, somehow. So I’ll do it the best way I know how, with my terrible writing of our moments.

Our moments. The ones that can only be real if you remember them too.

I just hope I don’t analyze too much, though I can already tell I have. But that’s just me. The moments I had with you, aren’t just memories to me. They are the seeds of my growth. Cause I know I made a lot of mistakes along the way, and if I can’t see those mistakes, I’ll just make them again.

Even if sometimes it pains me to look back at this stuff. I have to. Or I’ll never get past it. I’ll never move on.

I’ll never let those seeds actually grow into a better me.

Signed,

The Imp

P. S. Terra says Hi.