I’m sorry that things have gone on the way that they have. I guess I thought that you actually liked me – I thought this before we even started hooking up. I did not use you – I enjoyed being together physically while valuing your friendship. I know “friends with benefits” is a tricky thing – it’s hard to balance your desire for something physical and your desire for strong friendship. When I said I didn’t want a relationship, I was being honest. I don’t want to commit either. But after we made out a few times I did grow affectionate towards you – you were always my friend, but now you were also someone who I shared myself with and trusted in that way.

I do not want to lose our friendship but I feel compelled to isolate myself now. I was really hurt last night because I felt that first you showed interest in me and took the initiative and then the next thing I knew, you said it was over. I went out last night with no intention of making a move on you – to be honest. I initially was looking for A— just because I wanted to avoid you, since I knew you did not want to be together in public. Even though I knew we were friends with benefits (and I wanted that too) it did hurt me that you didn’t want to touch me in public. It made me feel like you were embarrassed of me or that I wasn’t good enough.

As far as having sex, I don’t necessarily take it lightly either. It did confuse me last night when you said you didn’t want to because just last week you had asked me to. Also, the other day when I asked you if you agreed with what S— said about us making out too much, you said, “No, as long as things stay as they are, then it’s fine.” So, what changed over two days?!

At this point, your words and actions don’t seem to match up and you have really confused me. I guess I was wrong when I thought that maybe you actually liked me. When I first kissed you, I did so because in that moment I felt like it, and because I was physically responding to what I thought had been a “tension” between us. (Sorry to use S—’s annoying word.) Did you not feel that some weird tension was brewing between us before we started making out? I felt it and L— said she sensed it too. Who knows, maybe I’m delusional.

Last night, you said you didn’t see us going anywhere – but I wonder why does it have to?? You kept comparing us to L— and P— and I don’t think that’s fair because I think our situation is really different. L— told me she doesn’t even really consider P— her good friend. I’m sure you have been heavily influenced by whatever P— and S— have told you/advised you about. This is a long letter so I will just end by saying I’m hurt and while part of me in no way regrets what happened between us, I wish I had never kissed you if this is the outcome.

- E.

The things worth knowing are the things unsaid
The things you feel and think and radiate
Infectious laughter
Those are the things worth loving for

I’ve smiled more here than I’ve ever smiled before
Everyday I find a new reason to grin
A person, a word, a Freudian slip
A giggle, a sigh, a knock on my door
A world of light and bright colors
Here we dance with the stars and wink at the morning

But the numbered stars burn brighter before they go
And in their glow we seek a new escape
To keep us safe ‘til morning
And the cycle starts anew

You know I’m waiting, right?

When you fall you take me with you
And baby that’s okay by me.

- just Jane

When I try to think of something to say to you, it sort of gets all muddled and confused. I don’t really know what I would have to say to you anymore. I guess I could start with “how are you?”, but that feels so needy. I guess I am needy. I didn’t mean to be, I just didn’t want to let you go so suddenly. I don’t know why… you’ve never been exactly something good for me. I mean you tend to be conceited and pompous, and loud and rude, and lazy and self-centered — not that I want to start a fight here… I’m just saying. You can also be fun and funny and a good listener if the occasion calls for it.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I’ve missed you. We had fun… you know? You try to make it out to be like I messed it up and for a while I believed you, but then I realized that I was only part of the problem. You and I did this together. I tried to fix it and you didn’t want to. But we can’t both play victim. I tried so hard to let it all go… but I just can’t get my head around it. I don’t understand what happened. You gave me “reasons” but really they were pretty lame excuses for ending a friendship permanently. I don’t know why you refused to make this work. But that isn’t why I’m here.

I’m sorry. I’m here because I wanted to thank you. You were a part of my life in a way that I can’t even begin to explain. You were my friend. You made me happy. You made me smile. So thank you. Knowing you, you won’t read this. You’ll maybe start and then give up. You never did listen to that CD, did you?

Whatever… I also want you to know that I knew that he just wanted to date a boy and that you were just the first one that he found. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know that he told you that… but it’s true. Not that you believe me. You never believe me. I also didn’t know ’til after you yelled at me for reminding you about the costume that you’d broken up. And when I did find out I didn’t know if that was why you were mad or if you genuinely meant what you said to me. You were never one to apologize. But then I guess I did enough for the both of us. And you know what? I’m not sorry. I wouldn’t take any of it back now. It is what it is. I’m stronger because of it. I used to pretend that I was having fun because I wanted to make you think that I was… lame but true. And now I do have fun. I’ve found friends that love me and that actually care about me and I care about them too.

I don’t need you anymore. I do miss you though. I’m not gonna pretend I don’t. So much of this year was wasted on trying to get back to normal and now that I’m here it’s okay but before… you really hurt me. You can’t begin to comprehend what it was like. And I’m not going to bother to try to explain it again to you. And you just didn’t care. The fact that you could be so heartless towards someone who you’d spent all summer talking to is really probably one of the most asinine things you have ever done in your life. You were a complete asshole to me and to other people and I’m not afraid to tell you that. I’m also not afraid to tell you that I kept forgiving you. I shouldn’t have but I did. Every single time we thought we might fix it you let me down. You didn’t want to put forth the effort to make things right. So thank you. By being an extreme asshole, you enabled me to see that I was better than that.

I really hope that this isn’t upsetting you too greatly if you do ever read this. Because most of it I would hope that you already knew. You are a smart kid, Baby Pan. I probably could go on for quite a while on this subject, but I don’t see any need to. You have blown any and every chance you’ve had to make it right with me and now you’ve run out of time on the resounding note of “never talking to you again”. So you can go on and live your life. I’m sure this note had no effect on you… or if it did, you just want me to, what was it, “stop harassing you”? But just to “annoy” you: I forgive you for everything and don’t hold anything from the past against you from this point on. Not that you will ever bother to make anything of this… but just so you know… I forgive you. So thanks again for the crash course in friendship and forgiveness. I can sincerely say that it is a lesson that I will never forget.

- just Jane

I watch my heart beat and labored breathing dance across the fabric of my shirt
Flitting black cotton swaying to the rhythm of my body

Windows open I feel the breeze on my skin
Light falls on my face and I think of you

I want to say what I mean and yet I don’t know what I mean
You are untouchable and out of my reach

You are calm and collected in the corners of my mind
I can’t get you out of my head

I can’t tell you that the sound of your voice and the curve of your face
Watching your hands makes me smile

My head is filled with voices screaming in my ears
Ripping out the chambers of my heart

Would you just let me bleed
Please, just let me bleed

I sing and smile and whistle tunes into the morning air
I dance and laugh and cry inside

I walk in the darkness, I don’t turn on any lights
So I stumble and fall and I break and I crumble

When you play with matches you get burned

I’d rather cry alone than have you see my tears
But your hand on my shoulder shows a glint of sunlight through the haze

I try to ignore it to make it go away
But the feelings inside me are rotting me away

He says that he’s nervous he says he needs help
I can’t tell him I can’t help him ‘cause I don’t know how

And she won’t even talk to me, it’s like I was never there
I don’t know where to look to find the light again

And when I find it, will it burn?

- just Jane

- just Jane

I’ve been out of my mind twice in my life.
Sicilian uncles have no concept of this,
They are too strong in their weakmindedness.
I tell myself to relish the brief, queasy
Happiness, to hang on to the last now.
But happiness comes as a snapshot,
Not in a quantifiable fashion,
Not mechanically, but as a vision,
Something rich and strange. The Russians know that
Turgidity is a skittish hurricane
Off the coast, biting its fingernails.
They say perfect love drives out fear,
But where can I find perfect love? I thought
I found it in that tangy magic realism
In Maryland. Your meek mien spoke to me
O so singly and I drove you home
After we traced the outline of the soul.
I only wanted one thing—to be happy,
But, wanting that, I have wanted everything.
Like a child, I asked, “Why can’t you see
The bitter end?” The heart is two-toned
So a cold silence froze the happy swinging.
You could not speak a single word to me.
And turgidity’s gales fell upon the shores,
Churning happiness and washing it away.

- Adam Palumbo

Broken promises and broken walls.
Broken love;
how far will she fall
before she’s unable to get up yet again?
Reckless and young, they thought it was love
she followed him and now she’s a prisoner of
finances and love and three days’ worth of driving.
Homesick, lovesick, heartsick,
she’s there, day after day,
waiting to go home and stay there,
but she knows she can’t.
Her guitar, saved from fire and flood,
sits under the bed, gathering dust.
Playing reminds her of salty air and fresh baked bread,
of warm hugs and cold nights,
of blueberries and partridgeberries and boysenberries,
of family and friends that she left so long ago
for this man who’s never home.
No looks pass between them, no more chaste pecks on the cheek;
She can’t remember the last time he hugged her.
New schools, new homes, new problems
and she’s not sure how much more she can handle,
but she has to handle it, for them.
Her niece will be grown before she sees her, her baby sister’s first baby,
a young girl before she goes home again.
Home is not where you pay the bills or cook the meals,
she screams so quietly that none of us can hear her.
Home is where your heart is trapped,
and hers will forever stay in Newfoundland.

- Denise Parker

September 24, 2006

Dear Amy,

Hello Future-Self! I hope everything is going well and that you have had a memorable time at UR since the original writing of this letter.

As of four years ago, here’s what’s up:

1. You feel very at home here and are absolutely loving college life.

2. You have survived your first month, but might not survive much longer if you don’t finish that paper you have due tomorrow! (English makes me so mad…)

3. Met some awesome people (2nd floor Moore pride!)

4. Been in your first theatrical performance (and had an amazing time!)

5. Want to major in psychology and/or communications with a minor in theatre.

6. You feel a little lost, but know that finding your place takes time.

7. Just got back your first quiz in logic/college, and it didn’t go so great…

8. Kept in touch with your close friends from high school so far.

9. Had & heard a few interesting stories.

10. Met some incredible upper classmen who are wonderful mentors and friends. As a result, Jess Ott one incredible theatre major, just gave you $10 (for a drink in four years). You will find it enclosed. Hopefully you have done the same for some freshman tonight.

NOW: The only thing I can say here is hopefully you have stayed true to who you are (you finally seem to have a good idea now) and have found yourself here at UR. I don’t have time (or enough room) to write down all your hopes and dreams – plus that’s not much fun anyway. But I hope in four years you will have found ways here to make your mark and make a difference. Hopefully you will have accumulated life-long friends, learned a great deal, had some fun, survived logic, and done some things (stupid or otherwise) that give you stories to tell your kids.

Most of all I hope you have taken it one day at a time. I hope you’ve not gotten caught up in what the future holds, and instead focused on every day to make the most of your experience. Sorry this letter wasn’t more entertaining but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Congratulations and best of luck in your last year here and beyond!

Love Always,

Amy

Scene: August.

I wonder if flies have been buzzing since the beginning of time or if it’s a recent development.

Have you ever really looked at a fly? Find a microscope and shove one under the lens, or, better yet, Google it. Type it into a Bing image search, F-L-Y. Unlike most creatures I have no qualms about killing, the fly improves upon closer examination. Iridescent exoskeleton, metallic wings that are ever so fragile, if lacking the innocence of the moth or the beauty of the butterfly. The eyes—the eyes are enormous, emerald-cut and terrified.

If the fly caught in my blinds didn’t buzz so irrepressibly, would I hate it so? How quickly I flit from irritation to murder.

Unsigned to protect the potentially guilty from those who may or may not care. The life of a fly may have been harmed during the penning of this note.

My original response to your original message was deleted, because I felt I was being unfair and unduly harsh, and I was hoping that maybe some time would allow us both to calm down, but, after your response, I felt I needed to say something.  I don’t expect, or need a response, I just wanted to put this out there and let you know what I’m thinking.

I absolutely don’t want to get into a fight with you over this, but I feel I would be remiss and unfair to both you and me not to tell you that I am both sad and not a little offended that you think so little of your friends that you feel you can’t say something to them – to me – without expecting an open mind.  You and I disagree on a few things, but I have never been closed-minded about something – and if you thought I was, I would hope that you would at least extend me the courtesy of telling me your opinion on a matter, because I may not have considered it.  I know that my mind has been changed and affected by you, positively, in many things, since, as you pointed out, I have rather conservative parents.  And if you disagree with something I say, I have come to count on you to, if not always ‘set me straight’, then at least give me an alternate point of view for me to think about.  So the fact that you felt we were too closed-minded to even consider something that you might say really saddens me.

And, for the record, part of the reason I am so offended is that I actually agree with you.  Now, I don’t exactly remember the conversation, but rather have a vague recollection now that you bring this up, so I am mostly going off of what you have said, since that is what is bothering you.  So I do actually agree with you that unmarried women can have children, and be successful and happy and all that.  But I personally do not think that it is the most desirable thing, at least for me, because, as you said, we were talking personally, which does affect things.  And I don’t see what is wrong with displaying you dislike for a situation that you would never want to find yourself in – that doesn’t automatically mean that I look down on the people who have chosen that lifestyle.  There are many things that I don’t want to happen in my life, that I might react in ‘horror’ if someone brought it up in the context of my life – such as something as innocuous as working in a cubicle.  Does that mean I would shun anyone who does?  Never!

Again, I really don’t want to fight with you on this, but I felt I needed to at least give you the courtesy of knowing how I feel about this because that is just what I ask of you, as I said before.  I’m hoping that you can at least see where I’m coming from, and I really hope that this doesn’t adversely affect our friendship.  I really hope that we can put this behind us.

Signed,

A friend

In the shadow you cast along my face I found myself, half in and half out of the light.
I wish I could banish that dark spot to Hades.
But it’s like a lunar eclipse and eventually it comes around again.
Would that I could kill that dark place that makes me small and feeble in your light.
I wrestle it down, and try to strangle it but it isn’t quite done with me yet.
This dog’s old tricks, her wily, clever ways don’t cotton to your kind.
Your x-ray vision is too strong for the likes of that bullshit.
You’ve got some parameters and you measure them against me.
I fall short, again and again, and the dark place consumes me in my remorse,
Knowing I am the architect of my own condition.
The truth is I will never shine without your love.
There is no hope in me without you.
No promise of happiness unless your heart is mine.
No vanilla scent of your skin to soothe me or soft lips to thrill me.
I need that old dog to lie down and be still.
And my fear to be replaced with faith.
So the courage in my heart leaks out around us.
Until we bind ourselves to thick and thin.
Better or worse.

- Rosanne DeTorres

This is the letter I wrote to my future self at Proclamation Night, Fall 2006. I opened it (and almost cried) this year.

Dear Brittany (in 2009!),

I love you! You are a wonderful person, no matter what you’ve chosen to do. So you know what’s been happening: Family Weekend was last weekend. Nick’s 12^th birthday was on Friday. You’ve yet to receive a package from home. New Faces (Medea!) just wrapped a few hours ago. You are sitting with the LoRo girls—Sarah N., Juliette, Becky, Emily G., and Jenna. Catherine McG. And Kathleen L. are behind us. We just said goodbye to Jess Ott (who is graduating this year!). Jess and I look like sisters and she is fabulous.

Can you remember what you were worried about four years ago? Reading 50 pages of The Neverending Story, four New York Times, Ms. Solomon, and —-. You miss —- a lot and are looking forward to a very enjoyable Thanksgiving with him. Do you still adore —- and read Harry Potter fan fiction? What happened to Harry Potter?

Where are your friends? Do you talk to Laure and Ashley and the Engelwood girls? Did you keep rooming with Becky? How are Mo and Buddy doing?

I really hope that you don’t have to read this out loud! Crazy! In four (really, three) years, I hope you’ve done better than a B- on a paper. Am I still English and Theatre double major? Do I still act and am I part of URP and AYO?

I hope you’ve gotten everything you’ve really, really wanted, and that you didn’t hesitate. I hope you’re still singing and acting and writing. I hope that you’re still a good friend and I really home that you’ve met someone you love.

The seniors are opening their letters now, and I hope that in four years, you’ll be sitting on the other side of the chapel with Beckers and Emile, reading your letter and laughing and crying.

Be strong and stay focused, and never forget: However awful life may seem, there are always people who love you, people you can count on.

I am so proud of you! (And I’m sorry there’s no money!)

Always and always,

Brittany Taylor

To the Faculty, and One in particular:

You should not be proud. There should be no jovial head nodding, no hand shaking, no congratulatory back patting. You should not be pleased, for what have you accomplished?

You tell me you love to teach. Have you been lying these four years, these decades-long careers? What have you taught? A bit of Shakespeare? Unlikely. You know they don’t like The Bard. Mathematics? Only if they need to know how to copy homework. A new tongue? How laughable, that those books and your antics could teach a teen Spanish, French, German.

No.

What you have taught is fear. You have flexed your collective muscle and we bowed—I bowed, it was my decision, know that—to spare the wrath inflicted on the only (golden) one of your own. You were scared by the snap of a twig, and so you spat fire like the dragon I always said you were. You thought our words, our honesty, would break you.

Maybe you should be broken.

You should know it was innocent. You know it was the truth, told to capture the moment, that Day in the Life. That’s why you ran, put coals beneath our words and lit the match. As the paged burned, I saw in the firelight faces pinched in disappointment, streaked with tears because of the false-guilt you instilled. Bravo. I saw confidence, hope, pride, deflate, disappear. And when I looked across the table, there you were in all your red-faced glory. Dominant.

I loathe you for making children doubt themselves. How can you call use your future, your legacy, when we spread our wings only to find them prematurely clipped? You deserve my loathing, though I think once, you sought my respect.

Well, sir, I cannot respect you. I cannot hold the eye of your comrades, not for shame, but for pity. You seek to push us down, and you thought you succeeded.

You did not.

Phoenix rising, here I am.

Signed,

The Editor

Come on. You wrote that stuff for a reason, didn’t you? Go for it–express yourself.