For everyone who has been asking and everyone who hasn’t, I know this may sound so cliché but I really want people to write me letters this birthday. For as long as I can remember, I have been a hoarder of letters (having stashed away every little thing anyone ever wrote to me even if banal or insignificant), a lover of language, a sentimentalist. I have received letters that were beautiful artistic abstractions and others that I hide under my skin when I feel dirty. As a relentless inquirer into how one can reduce convoluted feelings into decipherable emotions, I have myself written tens of letters, most of which I will never send, some of which I never meant to. But it has been a long time since I wrote anything, for in writing, there is nowhere to hide. It is a filthy mouth and a sucker punch. But I continue to revisit the letters I have received whenever I need to revoke a pastiche of memories long forsaken. So I wish more loved ones would write to me. And even more strangers. In the wake of my turning 22, I ask that you write to me about everything you have ever wanted to, everything you didn’t. I want to know all about your sordid affairs with learning. The music that forces you into a fetal position every time it comes on and the books you refuse to travel without. About the people you can’t seem to scare away or the knots you can’t seem to undo. Ask me the questions you have always wanted to ask your partner but could never get yourself to. Write to me about the wounds you cauterized and the ones you let bleed. Tell me about the time you abandoned and reclaimed, only to abandon again. Of belonging to the whim of your every desire. And the time you left people looking like battlegrounds. The sacred space between loving them and knowing better.Tell me about your happiest reminiscences or your miserable, tedious, not-enough lives. Just write to me with your heart, about your truth. Any of it, all of it. Sign with your name or keep me guessing. Send me a word, a sentence or a hundred. In return I only promise to read everything I receive with the outmost respect and to hold your sadness, the unwritten sighs and the eulogies in your tears. I promise to smile at the love letters even if I am not their object. I promise to write back if you want me to and treasure it even if I don’t. But most of all, I promise it will bring me great joy to receive a wish that refuses to fit into 140 characters.
Posted on: Tue, 13 Jan 2015 10:19:41 +0000
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