A Love Letter
?Yes!!!
?No 🙁
?Maybe
?Get Lost!
?A malicious air lingers in the night; a blackened moon. Spare stars slightly sparkling between the sheets of cloud; the wind whistling, as if screaming at you to take shelter and stay indoors. And yet you go out anyway.
?You’re cute, but I’m not interested.
?You go out anyway because you aren’t the type of person to be scared by this type of thing. Besides, you’ve always liked the night time. You’ve always liked it ever since you were a kid, when you snuck out during the night to walk in your neighborhood–avoiding the constant pressures of your parent’s broken relationship. You don’t know why, but you start walking towards your car.
?How do you know about that?
?Please stop passing me these notes in class, Brendan, everyone thinks its weird. We are in college, this is not how you should be interacting with people.
?You start walking to your 2016 Nissan Altima, maybe because it’s because you want to drive somewhere, maybe its because its the only place you feel safe. It’s the place where you first tasted true freedom, the place where you first discovered your love for travel, the place where you had your first anxiety attack, your first kiss, your first breakup. Maybe it’s because it’s cold outside and the car has a heater. Either way, you walk in silence towards your car. Funny how as we keep living, day by day we become less and less alive. You chuckle to yourself.
?I’m taken.
?I have a very important business meeting to attend to.
?You chuckle to yourself because you realize that you can’t remember the last time you were back home. You miss your pets, but you can’t stand the smell of your childhood bedroom. It makes you feel nauseous.
?Can I go now?
?You can see your car in the distance. A feeling of comfort washes over you, and then immediately dissipates as you spot an object lying at the base of your car. You can’t exactly make out what it is, but it looks like some sort of transparent orb. It reminds you of the snowglobes that lined your dresser as a kid. You don’t know why, but it upsets you. You approach the orb, with the same stubborn “bravery” that led you outside in the bitter cold at night. You pick it up. It’s warm.
?I really do not have time for this. I have to go.
?You decide to read the rest of the note.
?The orb glows slightly in your hand. You realize that you don’t want to put it down. You realize that even if you wanted to put it down, you wouldn’t be able to. The ball gets warmer. Its glow starts pulsing. You start to hear a voice echoing in your head.
?OK STOP. This is why no one likes you Brendan. You keep passing these stupid notes to everyone, and no one’s ever going to say yes, because you are weird and creepy. No one wants to talk to you, no one wants to see your stupid Hot Wheels collection, no one wants to hear your “really good” Borat impression. We all know that you aren’t “secretly a CIA agent,” and when you get a call and have to leave class to handle some “top secret government case,” we can clearly hear your dad on the other line telling you to stop putting his socks in the oven, or putting the fish into the garbage disposal because they “like it in there.” Stop writing these notes. Stop making us read them. Stop uncontrollable sobbing when we all choose “No,” it is not appealing, it’s annoying, and it makes everyone very uncomfortable, Brendan.
?The orb starts speaking to you.
?Jesus Christ Brendan, just give it up.
?The orb says: “Christie, you love Brendan.”
?You’ve got to be kidding me.
?The orb says: “Christie, you want to be friends with Brendan and you want to see his Hot Wheels collection, and you want to praise him for his really good Borat impression, and cook him chicken tenders, and help him put his fish in the garbage disposal, and– wait no stop what are you doing, stop ripping this note up, Brendan worked so hard on it, he put so much effort into this note, and it was for you Christie, all his hard work will be gone if you rip it.”
?No 🙁
?Maybe
?Get Lost!
?A malicious air lingers in the night; a blackened moon. Spare stars slightly sparkling between the sheets of cloud; the wind whistling, as if screaming at you to take shelter and stay indoors. And yet you go out anyway.
?You’re cute, but I’m not interested.
?You go out anyway because you aren’t the type of person to be scared by this type of thing. Besides, you’ve always liked the night time. You’ve always liked it ever since you were a kid, when you snuck out during the night to walk in your neighborhood–avoiding the constant pressures of your parent’s broken relationship. You don’t know why, but you start walking towards your car.
?How do you know about that?
?Please stop passing me these notes in class, Brendan, everyone thinks its weird. We are in college, this is not how you should be interacting with people.
?You start walking to your 2016 Nissan Altima, maybe because it’s because you want to drive somewhere, maybe its because its the only place you feel safe. It’s the place where you first tasted true freedom, the place where you first discovered your love for travel, the place where you had your first anxiety attack, your first kiss, your first breakup. Maybe it’s because it’s cold outside and the car has a heater. Either way, you walk in silence towards your car. Funny how as we keep living, day by day we become less and less alive. You chuckle to yourself.
?I’m taken.
?I have a very important business meeting to attend to.
?You chuckle to yourself because you realize that you can’t remember the last time you were back home. You miss your pets, but you can’t stand the smell of your childhood bedroom. It makes you feel nauseous.
?Can I go now?
?You can see your car in the distance. A feeling of comfort washes over you, and then immediately dissipates as you spot an object lying at the base of your car. You can’t exactly make out what it is, but it looks like some sort of transparent orb. It reminds you of the snowglobes that lined your dresser as a kid. You don’t know why, but it upsets you. You approach the orb, with the same stubborn “bravery” that led you outside in the bitter cold at night. You pick it up. It’s warm.
?I really do not have time for this. I have to go.
?You decide to read the rest of the note.
?The orb glows slightly in your hand. You realize that you don’t want to put it down. You realize that even if you wanted to put it down, you wouldn’t be able to. The ball gets warmer. Its glow starts pulsing. You start to hear a voice echoing in your head.
?OK STOP. This is why no one likes you Brendan. You keep passing these stupid notes to everyone, and no one’s ever going to say yes, because you are weird and creepy. No one wants to talk to you, no one wants to see your stupid Hot Wheels collection, no one wants to hear your “really good” Borat impression. We all know that you aren’t “secretly a CIA agent,” and when you get a call and have to leave class to handle some “top secret government case,” we can clearly hear your dad on the other line telling you to stop putting his socks in the oven, or putting the fish into the garbage disposal because they “like it in there.” Stop writing these notes. Stop making us read them. Stop uncontrollable sobbing when we all choose “No,” it is not appealing, it’s annoying, and it makes everyone very uncomfortable, Brendan.
?The orb starts speaking to you.
?Jesus Christ Brendan, just give it up.
?The orb says: “Christie, you love Brendan.”
?You’ve got to be kidding me.
?The orb says: “Christie, you want to be friends with Brendan and you want to see his Hot Wheels collection, and you want to praise him for his really good Borat impression, and cook him chicken tenders, and help him put his fish in the garbage disposal, and– wait no stop what are you doing, stop ripping this note up, Brendan worked so hard on it, he put so much effort into this note, and it was for you Christie, all his hard work will be gone if you rip it.”
Jess Williams is a second-year journalism major who also has a really good Borat impression. You can reach them at [email protected].