This is a follow-up to the first letter from Amy. Actually, its not so much a follow-up as it is a second, sordid chapter in our tale - but whatever... you get the point.
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I was sitting around last night, pondering on whether to write about wet dreams or rant on all of the stupidity in the world today, when I came across an unexpected little surprise . . .
Yup . . . it’s another Amy letter.
Obviously, everything else gets put on hold, since the last Amy letter was such a smashing success (and by “smashing success” I mean that at least one person actually liked it).
I actually didn’t even remember I had this letter. I was finally getting around to cleaning out the old letter box, and found it buried in another envelope. It’s dated September 8, but I don’t know what year it was. I’m guessing this is September 1992, since I was back in Columbus in Sept. 1991 and I don’t think it was then – but those days are mostly a blur, so anything’s possible.
Now, for those of you that missed the original Amy letter, you can get all caught up by reading the entry below. That should pretty much explain where we’ve been so far. This would be the letter that precipitated that last meeting between us – the one that ended with me driving 45 minutes out of my way for nothing.
Anyhow, like before, I’ll caption my comments randomly throughout the letter, since I think I’m really funny and smartass comments in the middle of crazy rambling letters amuse me. It’s kind of like my own little literary version of Mystery Science Theater 3000. And believe me, this is as bad a cinema as anything they’ve ever shown.
By the way, this letter is typed exactly how she wrote it – I would never let something with so many blatant grammatical errors ever be attributed to me. Assuming I wasn’t drunk, of course.
Dear Bob –
Hello! Well, I just got off the phone with you and I decided to sit down and write you a little letter telling you the things I didn’t tell you on the phone.
[What? That you’re insane?]
First of all, this letter Is not going to be like all the other letters I’ve ever written you [which would be one] saying I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done to you and that I hope you can forgive me – this letter won’t say that – ok?
[Um . . . it just did . . . ]
However, I do have to bring up this one “past” thing concerning you and I (sorry).
[I thought you weren’t going to say “sorry.” Psycho.]
The kiss that you and I shared in my garage that one very snowy night, was the best I’ve ever had.
[Heh. Yeah, baby.]
There are still times I find myself lost in that one moment with and frankly it scares me.
[Now you know how I feel . . .]
Now I know you know me probably better than any of my other friends and you know I’ve gone out with my share of guys and yes even kissed them (oh my God are you serious!!!).
[Obviously, her sarcasm at the end of that sentence shows that she too realizes that she’s a bit on the easy side. Granted, I never got anywhere with her, so I can only imagine what that says about me. Actually, I know exactly what it means – that even she could be disgusted by someone who makes starving Africans look like Marlon Brando.]
But never, and I mean never, did I feel the way I did that night. I always remember Gina telling us you made her see fireworks when you first started going out . . .
[Those weren’t fireworks. They were the tracers I used to disorient her. It made things a lot easier for me back then.]
. . . and of course, being the goofy, immature high school girls that we were, we always laughed and giggled – but I know what she meant and that’s what my problem seems to be.
[You mean, aside from the schizophrenia?]
I don’t mean to come and go in your life, it just seems to be the easiest way to keep from falling for you. I love having you as a friend, you’ve always been my best friend no matter how long we go without talking, it’s like no time has past between us, we just pick up where we left off, but in all honesty I don’t know how long I can go on lying to myself and you.
[That would be for another couple days at least.]
My feelings for you have always been strong, even when you and Gina were going out I liked you. That’s why when I called you earlier tonight I was so glad you weren’t home, because in all honesty I was hoping you wouldn’t call back and then I could begin getting over you – but NO!!
[Duh. I was 21 and just got an unexpected call from a chick. Like I’m going to let a potential chance to get laid go by the wayside. Please.]
Is this an omen from God or is he trying to play a constant, horrible game with me and my emotions – I just don’t know.
[Um, I do. It’s not God playing the games, honey.]
Ok, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest I will leave it up to you. Please call or write when you get this letter. Take care.
Love, Amy.
If you read the previous letter, you know what happened next. I called, met her for a quick slobbering session in her dorm room, planned to see her the next day and she was nowhere to be found when I got there. I kind of figured it would happen, but like I said – I was 21 and full of the hormones. I figured if I could keep her sane long enough to get some, it would’ve been worth the effort.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be and truthfully, that’s probably for the best. Lord knows what types of emotional trauma I would have been in for had I made it to the promised land with her. I can only imagine it would have left one of us in an asylum of some sort . . . though, as I mentioned before, I’m not so sure she didn’t end up there anyhow.
If anything, I think I’ll keep these letters around, so that when my little girl grows up, she can learn to differentiate between the right way to treat a nice, honorable young man and how to act like a complete and utter mental patient.
Of course, living with my genes in her body, she’ll get a crash course for that sooner than any of us would expect, but that’s a story for another time.
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