letters to bethany #1

Dear Bethany

This letter will probably just be about a whole lotta nothing, but at least it’ll be legible. I think.

I’m not sure if there’s a penpal protocol that I should be following, but I figure most things begin with an introduction. I’m terrible at describing myself, though, and I feel strange doing it. Our perceptions of ourselves are usually warped anyway, kinda like how our voice doesn‘t really sound the way we hear it in our heads. Depending on the approach we take, it can make us seem like we’re glorifying ourselves, deprecating ourselves, or just trying too hard.

Maybe as we get to know one another, we could write an About Me for the other person. And we don’t live terribly far apart, so we could meet up at Barnes and Noble sometime and you can laugh at how socially awkward I am compared to how I sound on paper.

I always have a knack for saying the wrong thing, and laughing when everyone else stops or being the only one who finds something funny. What you‘re reading might seem all put together, but the girl writing it doesn’t sound like this at all in person. It’s too bad everyday relations aren’t in writing; if it were that way I think I’d be fabulously popular.

There are kinds of cutesy body language that could trick people into thinking that my social retardation is just a quirky charm, but I’d probably come off as a ditz. You know, those girls who can say something stupid and then they giggle and bounce around and bite their lip and blush and everyone just laughs it off. Screw that, I’d rather just be weird. If I ever did that I’d probably instinctively punch myself in the face anyway. I can't stand that.

I love to read about psychology and human nature and the like, but the more I read and the more I observe people, the more I realize that they just suck. Assholes breed with other assholes and passively condition their offspring to become assholes, and they continue this long, dysfunctional chain of asshole-ism without ever understanding that there is something horribly, horribly, horribly wrong with them because it’s all they’ve ever known. That whole sentence was an English grammar nightmare but I'm sure a lot of this letter has been/will be. Anyway, that’s the "highly scientific" conclusion that I’ve reached after years of watching people do what they do and then experiencing love with the product of generations of warped views firsthand.

Things have become so much clearer after some recent (not to mention recurring) events with someone very close to my heart. The reason that things are happening and have been happening this way has suddenly become very obvious in my mind. It’s like I started with a pool of foggy water, but as things progressed drops of color have been added to it until it became very bright and opaque. I understand this, I understand him, I understand our past, but I can’t do anything about it. I can only wait for him to figure it out on his own. To climb out of this hole he dug for himself.

If he ever does...

I’m sure you’re probably pretty lost, and I’m sorry about rambling on so aimlessly for four pages, but if I write any more my hand is going to fall off. The letters aren’t going to stop here, anyway. You’ll eventually know the whole story, that is if you’d like to. Hope to hear from you soon!

Yours, Hanna