Heather's Letters

starting over. I’m gonna keep all the old letters just to have them, but I’m starting over. A lot of this is irrelevant, so…

dear heather,

heather,

Stop trying. You’re embarrassing me. All you do is try and fail, try and fail. Nothing you ever do will be good enough, so trying isn’t doing you the least bit good. Your self esteem is getting demolished, so just stop, okay? It’s pathetic.

No, don’t stop. You’ll never get anything accomplished so long as you don’t try, right?

Yes, but it’s not like that statement even applies to you. It’s better not to try and than to work your ass off and fail. That way, you can at least bury yourself into denile—into thinking that you’re that good.

BUT YOU’RE NOT. So maybe it’s better that you do try, so at least you’ll know the truth. It’s for the greater good. Go ahead—keep trying and failing. You deserve the humiliation, the destruction, and the blatant failiure.

AND EVERYONE HATES LOSERS. Remember that.

So stop trying. You’ll never be good enough. I hope I’ve almost drilled that into your head enough. Your life is one big lie. You make everyone think you’re this fantastic person, when, in actuality, you’re the biggest failure I’ve ever met.

Your own boyfriend, I promise, is sitting in his living room regretting his decision to get into a relationship with you. Everything you’re doing right now is just pushing him further and further away from you. Haven’t you wondered why he’s been so distant lately? Stop wearing rose-colored glasses. It’s your fault. That’s why he’s retracting, slowly. This is why you shouldn’t try. You’re losing the one person that’s kept you alive so far. What possessed you to believe you were good enough for him, anyway? Stop lying to yourself. You are, and will always be INADEQUATE. YOU ARE INADEQUATE. YOU ARE INADEQUATE. I can’t stress that enough.

The only thing you can do right now is break apart from these brilliant people that have put up with you so generously for so long, and wallow in your own inadequacy. (And make sure you do it quietly. I don’t want this to be another one of those times where you are open about your breakdowns for attention. You aren’t worth it.)

So there you are. I hope I’ve made everything clear for you.

Sincerely, Heather.

The Last Person You Made A Pinky Promise To

Dear Mike Jones,

AH! Mike Jones! I remember EXACTLY what we pinky promised about. Exactly. And I remember the day. And the place. We were walking back to our beloved Dillon Tauzin’s house, and it was the day we got together to watch Toy Story 1 and 2. We walked to Sean Finn’s house because we love him so much (and we needed to discuss Clockwork Orange with him.) He wasn’t home. He was at work. We were sad. It was hot. So we walked back. 

Now, the subject of what we pinky promised on will not be discussed in this letter, for the simple fact that someone may find out. (And that would not be good at all.) But that is not important.

I wanna start by saying that I love you. I feel like you are like my really close cousin. :)

There’s not much I wouldn’t give up to make you happy. You are such a great person, Mike. So genuine and true. It’s like, what you see is what you get. I’m so thankful that I have a friend like you. I feel like I can talk to you about how I’m feeling. Like, with no reason for it. Just to talk. And I feel like I can be myself around you, cause you won’t judge me. I’m sorry I could never give you a chance. I love you, brother.

Yours truly,

Heather.

The Last Person You Kissed

You know who you are.

Did you know you were my first kiss? Well, not technically. Technically, you were the second at that middle school Christmas party when we were freshmen. But no, you were my first true kiss. I never knew kissing could be like that. Before, it was all about technique. There was never anything more than that involved. But kisses with you are so different. Anything I could possibly say to attempt to describe what I feel like would be an understatement. There are no words that intense. 

With you, it’s all about passion; love. True, wholesome love. I love you. I love how you make me feel. You send chills down my spine. My lips perfectly pressed against yours. It’s heavenly, you know?

I guess you do. But never as much as me. You were my first true kiss, and I expect kisses from no one else but you for the rest of my life.

Your kisses make everything a whole lot brighter for me. I wish you could kiss me now. To make things better. They’re magical. 

I wish my kisses were as magical as yours. I’d kiss you and make you not mad at me anymore.

This is all just so difficult. 

I love you. But this love is more than love. And I need you back.

I was a child, and she was a child,

In that kingdom by the sea.

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Anabelle Lee.

**

That’s always been my favorite poem. Let’s just go to that world we dreamt of so often. I miss you.

-Heather.

Someone From Your Childhood

Dear Jacob,

I know you’re still here today, but you were around the most when I was a child.

Thought you’re my cousin, we were always more like brother and sister than cousins. We look exactly alike, and we fight ALL THE TIME. Even now.

I remember that time when you and Nanny still lived in the trailer, and you convinced me that it was okay for us to walk around the house with just our underwear on, because you did it all the time. And I believed you. I mean, we were like, 4. But I don’t think your mom was ever so surprised. But hell, it’s not like it mattered.

And I remember that time when we made our own version of Fear Factor. It was SO lame. At the time it was CRAZY INSANE to us, though. You had to jump the ditch with your bike, climb the swings, and eat a homemade mud pie! Gross! Haha, and I was the MC, Master of Ceremonies. I miss those days.

And I remember when Pawpaw died. We didn’t fully understand everything that was happening, but we watched Mawmaw fall to her knees in pure agony, and we were powerless to stop it. Then we realized that we’d never see him again. The man that we loved so much. That’s when we first truly learned about God, even though you’ve gone to Catholic school your whole life. And we just talked about it for months after that.

And now we jam out. You have your electric guitar and I have my piano. And sometimes we switch. But we sing. And we go to Aunt Nell’s house when she’s not home and swim in her pool at three in the morning, eat all her ice cream cakes, and make beautiful music on her GORGEOUS piano.

I sure wish we were close like we used to be. We see each other every now and again, but we’re not as close as we used to be. I mean, when we grow up, we’re gonna be partners in crime again, like we always used to be. I miss you, dude. Love you.

-Heather

Someone That’s Not In Your State

Dear Lawrence,

You don’t live in this state anymore, (unfortunately) so I can write this to you!

I consider you to be one of my best friends, though I’ve only “known” you for a very short period of time. Since I’ve met you on the internet, (Well, RE-met you) I’ve told you about almost everything. I truly love who you are. We’ve become so close so fast. I trust you with my secrets, and I feel like you can confide in me. I wish so terribly that you lived in Louisiana on River Ridge Drive again, so you could physically be here for me when I cry, as I could be for you. (Plus, there are a lot of attractive gay men here, too.)

You have such a lovely, wholesome personality. You’re so genuine, and I love that about you. Since you’ve read my other letters, you may know that genuinity is a trait that I adore greatly. I love your kindness and your sincerity. I only wish I were as selfless as you. You make me feel happy when I’m down in the dumps. We get along so well. AND YOU’RE A FUCKING MUSICIAN. I love music. And Asians. Maybe that’s why we’re such good friends. ;)

Anyway, I’m not really sure why I find it so easy to trust you, but I do. You know things that even some of my close friends don’t. I appreciate you. Thank you for being here for me. I love you! <3

-Heather

The Person You Miss The Most

Dear Haley,

You were like a sister to me. I can’t believe you had to fucking move. You were there for me through EVERYTHING. I mean, you even came to set builds with me. You helped to dry my tears. You wanted to punch Allison in the face….I mean. Seriously? I just love you. Why aren’t you here with me now?

Remember that time we wrote the “Hola, Como Estas” song? I do. And then we seranaded Lee up to his window? And remember the time we put on wigs and funny costumes and went to Wal-Mart? And that time we did a photo shoot on the levee by your old house in Westwego? Sigh. I miss you. You brought out the child in me. I miss lying on the trampoline at Sammy’s house talking about wanting so badly to fall in love, and then lying there crying when it actually happened, and we got our hearts broken. I miss riding our bikes down to that old convenience store on the corner of that old dirt road just to get snoballs, then eating them so fast, we got brainfreezes because we didn’t tell our moms we were leaving your street. And I remember opening my presents with you every Christmas morning, except for the ones where I was with Daddy.

I miss you so much, dear. I wish you weren’t so scared of flying. As soon as I can drive, I’m coming up to West Virginia to get you again. I love you.

-Heather <3