Hate Mail

by Donna Marchetti

Never let a mean letter dull your shine.

Dear Naomi, I hope you get struck by lightning and die in the middle of your next weather report. Wouldn’t that be ironic? —L

They’re the type of eyes that are impossible to look away from, and yet I feel like if I keep staring, he’ll somehow figure out my darkest secrets.

I want you to know that if anyone ever did those things to me, it would be because he’s a shitty person and he doesn’t deserve me. Not the other way around. And if I saw someone treating one of my friends like that, I would kick him in the balls. Love, Naomi

I never knew it could be so hard to get over someone I’ve never met in real life.

She made the hottest girl at my own high school look like a mushroom in comparison.

I think my mom might be my only real friend. Isn’t that a little pathetic?

Husky Eyes: How’s San Diego? Better than Miami? Naomi: It’s beautiful here. I might never come back. Husky Eyes: You can’t make a big decision like that until after you’ve been on a date with me. Naomi: You must be really sure of yourself to think one date can make me rethink such a big decision. Husky Eyes: It won’t be just one date.

“Don’t put your life on hold for me.” That request made no sense to me because I didn’t see it as putting my life on hold for her. She was my mother, and she was all that I had. She had stayed strong and taken care of me when my father left. I refused to abandon her now that she needed me to take care of her.

But when my mother got sick, when it became clear that she was slowly dying, I didn’t feel that same anger. She wasn’t choosing to leave me. She was being taken away from me against her will.

Sometimes I went to bed imagining that it was me holding her in that photo she posted.

I was angry at the cancer, not at her.

Instead, he grabs onto my shoulders, steering me away from the edge of the sidewalk so that he’s between me and the road. “There. That’s better.”

I don’t want to let go of him. I could live right here, wrapped up in his arms, and probably die happily.

The taste of his lips on mine is something that I want to savor. I’ve been craving the feel of him, the way his lips fit perfectly against mine, since he let go of me yesterday morning.

The effect he has on me is dizzying.

“Jesus, Naomi,” he whispers against my lips. “I can’t get enough of you.”

There’s a knot in my throat as I think about what might have been. I feel silly for mourning something that never existed,

I got a call from an old friend the other day. If you go to Georgia again, tell Maxwell I said hi. Who knew you would go that far to find me? You must like me too, or something. Love, Luca

Then it hits me: he’s definitely not in San Diego anymore.

IS IT HER NEIGHBOR .....!?

If you were trying to scare me off, you did a terrible job. I need more of you.”

Speaking of that offer, is it still valid? Because I’d like to come hide away with you if you’ll have me. Just say the word and I’m yours. Love, Luca

“I just want to live like nothing is wrong for a little while longer.”

I think anyone who reads them would know that I’m in love with you. Love, Luca Dear Luca, How can you say that you’re in love with me when we’ve never even met? If that’s how you think you feel, you should have told me a lot sooner. It’s too late now. Love, Naomi Dear Naomi, It’s not too late. Love, Luca

“Do you really think you’re the only one who’s hurting over this? I fell in love with you, and I lost you.”

“I fell so hard for you that I couldn’t even enjoy anyone else’s company, because I had already decided that you were the one.

Before I came to Miami, I had convinced myself that I was wrong for thinking I could be in love with someone I had never met. And then I met you in person, and it turns out I was right. Everything that I thought I felt was real. I fell in love with you all over again.”

I told Naomi that I dodged a bullet, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’m the bullet. I shoot right through every relationship I have, leaving nothing but pain and bitterness behind.

And maybe I’m a little masochistic, because as much as it hurts, I like seeing her even if it’s from a distance.

There’s no mistaking that the woman walking into the store is the one I fell in love with before I ever met her.