and now I feel guilty and I hate myself because I wasn’t here when you needed me.
I was rescuing Celia.
And maybe I should have left her right where she was.
Anyway, I think I might go watch TV. I’m sorry I don’t feel like writing any more. I feel kind of drained of energy – like I’ve hit the wall. (That’s marathon talk – it happens when your muscles can’t take in any more oxygen and you feel like you’re about to die.)
But I got you this charm at the shops today, to try and make you feel better about stuff. I’ve got a feeling you’re not the type of person to have a charm bracelet but this one’s kind of funny, it’s not like a star or a princess or anything. It’s got a really cute face, don’t you reckon?
Also here’s some raspberry that I accidentally got on the letter (eating my third raspberry pop-tart today), but it’s kind of pretty:
Anyway.
Write soon,
Love from Elizabeth
Dear Elizabeth,
What happened to you?
Tell me.
Don’t be stupid – you do not always talk about yourself, you walrus-head. I always talk about myself. You’re a fantastic letter-listener and you sent me a charm that I love and I put it on a piece of string around my neck, and it’s very very cute. THANK YOU. And you always say the right thingin your letters and you always guess how I’m feeling.
Like about Derek. It’s true that I’m just kind of pretending not to mind that we’ve broken up. I don’t have any idea if we’re going to get back together again. Sometimes I think there’s no way possible, and it’s like we’re strangers who never spoke to each other before. But other times I think for sure we will, and we know everything about each other, and it’s just stupid that we’re not together now.
Sometimes I think, well I wasn’t planning on marrying him anyway, so maybe I should just try meeting someone new, and it even seems kind of exciting. Other times I see him coming towards me across the art room, and I forget we’ve broken up and I think he’s going to give me a big gorilla hug because he’s got that weird smile on his face that he gets when he’s going to give me a big gorilla hug. But then he walks straight past me, and he’s just smiling in his gorilla hug way at the ‘WASH ALL PAINT PALETTES BEFORE YOU LEAVE’ sign on the wall.
Anyway, I want to send this right away so you get it today, because I’m worried about you. What happened to you? How come you said you should have left Celia where she was? Did Celia do something bad to you?
But if you really don’t feel like talking about it, that’s fine, you don’t have to. But maybe it’ll make you feel better. And DEFINITELY DON’T keep quiet about it just because you feel guilty.
You haven’t got anything to feel guilty about.
Write soon.
Love from Christina
Dear Christina,
Your letter made me cry. Because you’re the nicest person in the world I think, maybe.
I’m not really doing anything. I’m just lying on my bed and it’s the middle of the night and I haven’t gone to sleep yet. The blind is hanging crookedly and letting moon shadows fall all over the wall.
I can’t do anything except lie on my back, and think all around my empty room, listening to nothing. I would listen to music but it might wake my mum up.
I had such a long, long, long shower. You would go mad at me if you were one of those consultant people that you’re going to turn into. I was so slow and wasteful. I twisted the shower around so it sprayed against the wall and I just leaned there with the water making patterns all around me and sliding down the tiles.
The last few days I’ve been feeling like I can hear people crying everywhere. Behind the shower water I could hear a sound like someone just sobbing and sobbing. I hear it behind everything. Behind the noise of the school bell ringing, or the noise of everyone talking in the canteen, or even the noise of a teacher shouting at someone. Behind my music,
I was rescuing Celia.
And maybe I should have left her right where she was.
Anyway, I think I might go watch TV. I’m sorry I don’t feel like writing any more. I feel kind of drained of energy – like I’ve hit the wall. (That’s marathon talk – it happens when your muscles can’t take in any more oxygen and you feel like you’re about to die.)
But I got you this charm at the shops today, to try and make you feel better about stuff. I’ve got a feeling you’re not the type of person to have a charm bracelet but this one’s kind of funny, it’s not like a star or a princess or anything. It’s got a really cute face, don’t you reckon?
Also here’s some raspberry that I accidentally got on the letter (eating my third raspberry pop-tart today), but it’s kind of pretty:
Anyway.
Write soon,
Love from Elizabeth
Dear Elizabeth,
What happened to you?
Tell me.
Don’t be stupid – you do not always talk about yourself, you walrus-head. I always talk about myself. You’re a fantastic letter-listener and you sent me a charm that I love and I put it on a piece of string around my neck, and it’s very very cute. THANK YOU. And you always say the right thingin your letters and you always guess how I’m feeling.
Like about Derek. It’s true that I’m just kind of pretending not to mind that we’ve broken up. I don’t have any idea if we’re going to get back together again. Sometimes I think there’s no way possible, and it’s like we’re strangers who never spoke to each other before. But other times I think for sure we will, and we know everything about each other, and it’s just stupid that we’re not together now.
Sometimes I think, well I wasn’t planning on marrying him anyway, so maybe I should just try meeting someone new, and it even seems kind of exciting. Other times I see him coming towards me across the art room, and I forget we’ve broken up and I think he’s going to give me a big gorilla hug because he’s got that weird smile on his face that he gets when he’s going to give me a big gorilla hug. But then he walks straight past me, and he’s just smiling in his gorilla hug way at the ‘WASH ALL PAINT PALETTES BEFORE YOU LEAVE’ sign on the wall.
Anyway, I want to send this right away so you get it today, because I’m worried about you. What happened to you? How come you said you should have left Celia where she was? Did Celia do something bad to you?
But if you really don’t feel like talking about it, that’s fine, you don’t have to. But maybe it’ll make you feel better. And DEFINITELY DON’T keep quiet about it just because you feel guilty.
You haven’t got anything to feel guilty about.
Write soon.
Love from Christina
Dear Christina,
Your letter made me cry. Because you’re the nicest person in the world I think, maybe.
I’m not really doing anything. I’m just lying on my bed and it’s the middle of the night and I haven’t gone to sleep yet. The blind is hanging crookedly and letting moon shadows fall all over the wall.
I can’t do anything except lie on my back, and think all around my empty room, listening to nothing. I would listen to music but it might wake my mum up.
I had such a long, long, long shower. You would go mad at me if you were one of those consultant people that you’re going to turn into. I was so slow and wasteful. I twisted the shower around so it sprayed against the wall and I just leaned there with the water making patterns all around me and sliding down the tiles.
The last few days I’ve been feeling like I can hear people crying everywhere. Behind the shower water I could hear a sound like someone just sobbing and sobbing. I hear it behind everything. Behind the noise of the school bell ringing, or the noise of everyone talking in the canteen, or even the noise of a teacher shouting at someone. Behind my music,
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