To Samuel

Dear Samuel,

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you are actually reading this, and that you have not moved apartments. It’s been a year since we last spoke. I am writing this letter because I feel that I deserve clarity. Think whatever you want about me and the relationship we had, but you can’t deny that at one point we were important to one another. And I think I deserve clarity. Clarity on why you decided to stop speaking to me, not even giving me a reason why.

I hope it’s because you are in a relationship with somebody now–and you don’t want to make them feel uncomfortable by speaking to me. At least I pray that’s the case. I pray that you have chosen to forget me but you didn’t want to. That I still come up in your mind from time to time. That sometimes you see a book or a poem or a person that reminds you of me. Or I pray that you hate me. That you have intrusive thoughts about me and get annoyed that you’re even thinking about me.

My worst fear is that I actually never mattered to you. That I was just a body. That everything we did and spoke about and shared were just means to a goal that once achieved you could put a stop to.

I just want to hear the truth of the matter from you. It hurts me that somebody that was important to me could forget me so easily.

Waiting to hear from you,

Rebecca

Dear Rebecca,

This might be crazy and I don’t know why I’m writing this, honestly you probably are going to think it’s a bit rogue and inappropriate for a stranger to read such personal, vulnerable thoughts and then have the audacity to write back.

But unfortunately, I did open your letter. And I read it, a few times actually. I always get mail from the tenants that lived in this apartment before me, and I usually just toss the letters (is that bad? I feel like you’re not supposed to do that)--but this letter was handwritten. You put a little bread sticker on the back to close the letter up. So I thought it could be something important. And it was.

I’m sorry that this happened to you, and that Samuel just left you in the dark.

Honestly, I have no idea who this guy is, his age or occupation, or who he was to you even. But I know that clearly he was important to you, and his actions affected you deeply.

I want you to know that however he feels about you, it really doesn’t matter. I know when we lose the people we love it feels like the end of the earth, that we can’t envision any other way forward. That we almost seem to think about them more when they’re gone than when they’re here. But the truth is, you will probably never hear from him again. I know that hurts. I’ve been there too.

But life goes on. I promise. It might take years and years, but accepting things as they are rather than attempting to find an explanation to them is the best way forward. I’m sharing this not to be an asshole, but rather because sometimes we need a nudge from the universe to move in a certain direction. And until we receive that nudge, we feel quite clueless.

Even though it’s not from Samuel, I hope this response shows you that there is more to the world than someone who doesn’t want you in theirs.

Best,

George

George,

You didn’t provide a return address so I only wrote “George” for the recipient’s name and I hope it gets to you. I felt so embarrassed when I received your letter. Like, insanely embarrassed–not only did I realize how pathetic I sounded but I realized a complete stranger had read my letter and felt so sorry for me that they decided to respond.

But enough of me feeling bad about myself, I just wanted to say thank you. It’s been really lonely for me lately, and in the mundanity of my life it felt refreshing for someone who had no obligation to, to write back.

I have no idea who you are, you could be a creepy 50-year-old man for all I know (honestly, you probably are one. I don’t really know why else you’d write back). But since you seemed to have liked the bread sticker, I have added a few other bakery-themed stickers I’ve made here as a thank you. Thank you for your comforting words, I’m not sure what your intention was but it felt like some type of closure receiving the letter, even if it wasn’t from Sam himself. Isn’t that strange?

Anyways, I hope you’re staying warm. I know Chicago is starting to get cold this time of year.

Rebecca

Rebecca,

These stickers are wonderful, it seems like you’re a very talented person.

I know that probably feeds into your idea of me being a creepy old man, but I’m not one. At least I hope I’m not, I guess creepy old men don’t think of themselves in that way.

I’m actually also very, very lonely. I’m so lonely that I dread going to sleep and starting the next day, and when I wake up the only thing I can look forward to is sleeping and being away from the reality of my life. I lost somebody very important to me, and when I lost them we weren’t on the best terms. It has probably been one of the worst experiences of my life. But I’ve been meeting with a psychologist, and trying to remind myself that there’s nothing I could’ve changed, and that the state of our relationship when it ended isn’t a reflection of my character. I just wanted to write back in case you were feeling the same. If that makes sense. And maybe Samuel was going through something similar, and even if he thought of you he didn’t have the energy to respond to you, or he didn’t know how. Maybe he had to move abruptly. Maybe something has caused him to be able to not respond at all, or maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to you.

But does it really matter? The cycle of grief ends with acceptance.

I wish you the best of luck, Rebecca.

George

George,

I’m so sorry to hear that you lost somebody that was close to you. Honestly, in the midst of this hellhole that is the world right now I appreciate you looking out for someone else. It feels so much less lonely to go through something but know that you aren’t the only one going through it. I guess when you think about it realistically millions of people have gone through the same thing. And they grieve and cry and feel like shit but eventually they feel better. Or I guess they never feel better. But I know that most feel better at some point, because for most people, it seems that life still goes on.

This might be a bit crazy, but I’ll be in Chicago in November. I’d love to grab a coffee with you. Let’s talk about it together. Or we don’t have to. We could talk about happier things.

I feel like now that we have shared a vulnerable part of ourselves with each other, it feels odd to have someone know that side of you and never speak to them again. I guess that’s why I sent the letter in the first place right?

Let me know what you think,

Rebecca

Hey George,

It’s been about a month and I haven’t heard from you. I realize in hindsight you were just sharing advice, and I probably went out of your comfort zone when I suggested we meet up. I can see now how that feels odd. Anyways I just wanted to send this to say that, I guess. I’m not sure. I don’t know how into Halloween you are, but I’m going to be a gumba from Mario this year. I hope you have a fun Halloween.

Thanks for everything George,

Rebecca

Hi George.

It’s been 6 months since I last wrote. I don’t know if you even read the last few letters I wrote, or if they’re even getting to you. Maybe you moved or you just don’t feel like continuing to converse with a stranger, who knows. Anyways I just wanted to let you know I have the first letter you sent pinned above my desk. It gives me hope knowing that somebody is capable of understanding me, of seeing what I go through instead of being annoyed by it. I hope you felt that way too.

Rebecca

George,

It’s been two years since I first sent that letter to your apartment. I’m sure you don’t live there anymore or you’d at least write back telling me to stop. Sometimes the things that happen to me make me feel like I live in my head and the things that happen to me are fictitious. Either you’re not real, you felt bad so you wrote back, or your name isn’t George and you’re not a man, or you’re actually Sam and you’re fucking with me.

I don’t know why I’m still writing. I complain about my life being the way it is, of feeling too much. But the people that have an impact on me are etched onto my brain. And no matter how hard I try to scrub away at the etching, it doesn’t really work. So I just think of them from time to time. Not everyday, but they do somewhat shape my life.

I know everyone doesn’t feel this way, but I’m sure some do. I don’t think you do though.

Wishing you the best,

Rebecca

Dear George,

It’s been six years since I sent you that letter. There’s no way you even still live in that dingy apartment, but for some reason I felt compelled to mail this letter to you, even though I knew you wouldn’t read it.

The likelihood of you reading it after I’ve mailed it to you is probably the same likelihood you’d read it if I just wrote it in my journal. But I still find myself wondering what if? Genuinely, after years of meeting people and growing older, I still feel that such a connection is so rare. And maybe it feels so rare because it can’t continue forever.

I hope if someone else is reading this they’re getting a good laugh out of it. I know I would. And to whoever, if anyone, is reading just know that I wish you the best. If you’re young, and you’re going through it, and you hate your reality, just know it isn’t forever. It will pass. Believing it will is the hardest part.

Goodbye George,

Rebecca