From the archives

Reading through an old stack of letters, each written on loose leaf binder paper, some college rule and some wide rule. Some are letters written to me from friends while others are copies of letters I wrote and then never sent or passed-usually because I'd end up calling the guy and reading directly from the letter.

The letters are dated 1991 or 1994. I read through them, thinking I might get rid of them but no. I can't. They are too good. Like this one:

"Even though last week I rode on top of the world and was sure of myself and my friends and just everything, now I have that old familiar feeling of achiness in my lungs and my chest. . .in my heart, I guess. I can't blame it on you, because so much of it is me, and my letting you do what you want, even if it means having my confidence smushed underfoot. I find myself thinking in circles, telling myself what I want and seeing how it matches up with what I think you want. I tell myself that you don't respect me, when it reality it is probably I who don't respect myself. I will do anything for you, and cry quietly because of it, because sadly, what you want doesn't match what I want as well as I thought it would. And I just end up feeling sad. So what can I do to respect myself more? Know that I will make mistakes and sometimes they will be mistakes that make me really sad. Know that I draw more people towards me if I am happy and smiling and natural, and know that I like myself better that way. Understand that I will live even if he laughs at me and know that inside me I do have the capability to be sweet and surprising and smart. I seem to forget things as I go along, like his not promising anything, and my determination to enjoy things as they are and my admiration of him as a writer and as someone who reads and sings.

Before I was just happy that he exists, and now when I want so much more, I find myself with much less. Can I find a way to balance doing what I want, having you, feeling good about myself and not expecting too much? There are so many things that I have the knowledge and the power to do, can it be so hard to do these relationship things?

Dad has a mantra, "What a great life" What is mine? For now, to be glad that I exist and glad you exist. I guess that's all for now. I leave with a much smilier face."



There's no date so I'm not sure when this was written. I think high school. I recognize myself and I recognize a self I used to be. I'm more confident now. . .I think. But I'm also still so like this, so many thoughts about what everything means.