How I wish someone would give me a love letter, too.. I'm not a very materialistic person so simple things like that beat anything fancy. Of course I'd receive anything with the same amount of gratitude but letters.. they're like written bits of the sender's soul offered especially to you. And just the thought of that alone makes it so moving and romantic enough to drive my sentimentality fervent with old-fashioned emotions that I'd absolutely keep and treasure the papers oh so dearly. Even if the love bestowed upon me I can't return. I just wish I won't be decapitated for it..
In all my life, I've only written letters to five gents because I am such an old soul.
Let's call these gentlemen:
Don, Antoine, Patch, Callum & Chace.
Out of five, three were love letters, one a Christmas letter, and the other a Valentine letter. Now just because I wrote each of the messieurs one, doesn't mean I had it all sent to them.
The very first love letter I ever created was when I was 15. It was addressed to my first crush, Don, the very first boy to give me butterflies when I was but a young little dove of about 4 or 5 years old. Never gave the letter to him but I still have it kept, safely tucked away with my old notebooks and journals.
The second one was during the Christmas party of my last year in high school, to Antoine. I was his secret santa. Gosh, I wish I had made a copy of what I wrote! It was actually funny because this guy and I had a history that dated way back when we were still in 4th Grade. Our classmates labelled us as the "4th Grade Sweethearts'' and they never stopped shipping and teasing us all the way to the very end of high school that each time we'd get a new bunch of classmates, they were always made aware of our history and were recruited to join the "fanclub". And by that, I mean they'd end up participating in the childish teasings as well. Anyway, his wish list included "a novel" so I gave him the brand-new book I bought that year which was honestly garbage. Oh lord, I'm so evil. It was juvenile horror and I could only hope he enjoyed it because it didn't scare me one bit, the very reason I didn't mind tossing it away. Alright, alright. I spent the rest of my money to something else that's why I had nothing else to give him but that piece of shit. But let me explain. In my defense, there was a set minimum price for the gifts and that book was I'm pretty sure four times worth the minimum amount. The cover was enticing, I hope at least that excited him to read it like it did me.. But I still included a letter because I don't know, a compensation for the merdique quality? Haha. Sweet heavens, dost forgive me.
The third.. Ahem. Patch, the guy to whom I lost my virginity. We were each other's first sex. I actually wrote him two long ass letters. First, a love letter of gratitude and regret (because I took him for granted and was awfully sorry). And then second, an angry brokenhearted one. Like with my first crush, I never gave either to him, I just needed to vent things out. At first, I thought of sending it but every after having them written at once, I always found myself calmed down and would decide against it. Out of all the letters I've made, the ones I wrote to him are the most passionate and dramatic. The cringiest is the one dedicated to Don because my English at 15 was absolute shit.
Fourth was written last year. Guess who the recipient was.
Callum.
Yes, that's right, when he was still single. Anyway, it was during St. Valentine's Day. It sounds misleading but it wasn't a love letter at all, dear no. To be honest, it was more like a furious Valentine letter. I remember the very first thing I wrote on the paper: "Dear Poophead, Fuck you." And the last was: "Happy Valentine's Day, Asshole!" Yes, I was that brutal. But he appreciated it so much and even posted it on his Facebook page. Not the entire letter, of course, but some writings were shown. The comments truly had me laugh.
"Who is that? She sounds very nice 😂"
"What a lovely greeting. 'Fuck you.' 😂"
"Hey, asshole. Happy Valentine's 😂"
"OoOoH~is that someone new??? 😏"
So many curious friends.
The fifth.. Still last year, around July. It was addressed to that brown-eyed, curly-haired Frenchman I fell in love with, the one I recently mentioned three posts ago. I also wrote an entry about him here entitled "Mr. European", but from now on, let's call him Chace. The letter was read and was most appreciated. Honestly, it was supposed to be a letter of letting go and in there, I was hoping for a proper goodbye. But the scumbag just wouldn't fucking go away. We remained friends for quite a while after that, any sweetness and affection we used to display to each other—gone. Until one night, more than a month later, around the end of August. He got drunk and admitted his loneliness. Confessions were made but after a few days, he disappeared. No goodbyes whatsoever. Just straight-up blocked me. I reckoned he got embarrassed about the things he admitted but I wasn't mad about him ghosting me at all because our last conversation satisfied me. See, after the cold treatment he had shown, finally, thanks to alcohol, he opened up to me and said that if there was one wish the world could bestow upon him right at that moment, it was that I was to be in his loving arms, cuddling with him, because there was nothing else in the world he wanted more but me, and that our distance wounded him so. His honesty and vulnerability gave me peace, and the formal farewell I beseeched from my letter, was, in a way, somehow granted. But his disappearance only made my feelings for him grow stronger, that everyday, I waited for his return because I knew, somehow, it wasn't the end of our story. I knew, that someday.. he'd be back for me. I don't know how, I just knew it. And I was right.
That's it. These are the gentlemen to whom I sprinkled a part of my soul, through an ink, made visible on a piece of paper, no matter how tiny or unknown it may be to the others. I'll share the missives here one of these days for I still have the ones that weren't sent to Don (first crush) & Patch (first sex), and the copies of the rest. All except the one for Antoine, my 4th grade sweetheart. I wonder how he's doing now.. Does he still have my letter? I sure hope so. I'd very much like to read it again.
Now back to the kings and queens of old. I was actually wondering if I could ever behead someone I used to love.. Hmm. Such a disturbing thing to ponder but reading Henry VIII's lettres d'amour had me curious. In the ancient days, probably, where I'm the queen, I'd be able to. But I guess I'm the kind of ruler who'd order the execution and once done, I'd be filled with complete remorse and horror that I'd run to it and try to put the head back to its body. How sad and gruesome the sight would be.. But only to people I care about, I'd act like that. To others, I'm pretty sure I'm dead cruel. Or at least I'd make sure I look it so, for if I were to be queen, I'd want to inflict terror. I'd implement that instead of animals, we'd have murderers and rapists for meat production. "The Era of the Cannibal Queen", they'd say. Haha. Kidding. So inhumane, eh? But how nice would it be for the animals ❤️
That's it for now. Toodles.