A letter to you, from 15 years ago


Dear S,

I was waiting for your call all last night and while we were at dinner. Adrian refused to enter into a discussion with me about anything. See, she claims each time we start a conversation my blasted mobile goes off and the ringing drives her crazy. So I told her to please, please make an exception because S was going to ring me and come on, Adrian, you know how S is exceptionally special to me. An exceptional woman for whom I make well, exceptions. Adrian grunted and mumbled under her breath but acquiesced to having the mobile on BUT on silent mode.

By Murphy’s rote, my mobile was rather well-behaved, it didn’t ring even once because exceptional S never called me back. Needless to say that was a useless debate to have had with Adrian.

You are indeed silly, why would you worry? And what about? I told you I was okay and that everything was fine but I guess you were probably reeling from the shock of the very fact that I had called you. I suppose you had it stuck in your head that the only time you’d ever hear from me was if I were lying in some hospital with multiple fractures or if I’d decided to get married. But sorry, no. I just felt like hearing your voice.

Actually that’s not entirely right.

I believe I HAVE been hearing your voice in my head ever since that day we spoke. You have such a lovely voice, you have no idea, really. It’s deep and honeyed with the sound of laughter that sounds like coins being dropped on a rooftop. Reminds me of those cartoon illustrations where you see stars sprinkled around and over someone’s head. I think that is what I must look like when your voice hits my ears; like I’ve been punched by a cloud. My therapist tells me not to go around telling people that I’ve been hearing voices in case they think I’m schizophrenic. But what do they know? They don’t know about how exceptional just thinking about S, makes me feel.

You told me you spent the morning raking leaves from your yard and it felt like deep breathing. I want some of those leaves you raked. Can you pick up three leaves? One
in every colour. Of course if there are more colours than just three, pick up more. But one in every colour, and put it into a burnt orange envelope and send it to me. That way we can share autumn with each other. I already said hi to your friends – the ones you spent your day with.I liked them. They must be exceptional too.

You make me feel like a kid. Today I was thirteen all over again.



One Comment Add yours

  1. I have been following you on twitter for sometime , you articulate complex emotions very beautifully , I was wondering if I could talk to you , I know we are. Strangers but I want to talk to someone who is knowledgeable, do as act of kindness !


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