SHADE OWENS
THE LETTER
I didn’t want to wake up this morning.
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The dream felt too real. You were with me, sitting on a park bench at Munroe Park. Do you remember when we went there for coffee? I do. Vividly.
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I can still smell you. There was this breeze that kept sweeping across the river. You complained that it smelled like fish, which it did, but all I smelled was you.
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The sun was starting to set. Do you remember that? And most of the annoying kids had cleared out, so it was just you and me. It was so romantic.
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Well, we were back there again last night.
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Just us.
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And then Patty, that bitch, woke me up.
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Honestly, I almost clawed her ugly face when it slowly came into focus while yours faded away, one sexy feature at a time.
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Fucking cunt.
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She took you away from me. If she hadn’t turned around when she did, I don’t know what would have happened.
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And now, here I am, alone with a flickering bulb above my head. It’s always cold in here. And the walls are so close together.
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If they catch me writing this, it won’t be good for me. I’m not allowed pens.
The other day, Nurse Ranski caught me with a pen tucked in my bra and she reported me. Can you believe that twat? It’s not like I was hurting anyone.
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Whatever. I managed to get a hold of another pen. If they catch me again, I’m not sure what will happen, but I don’t care.
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You’re worth the risk.
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You’re worth everything to me.
Always have been.
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Can you believe I’ve been here for three months now? I thought I’d hear from you, one way or another, but it’s okay, really. I totally understand why you haven’t reached out. You’re trying to protect me. No one understands, but I do.
I know you’ll come back for me.
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I’d wait my whole life here if I had to, for you.
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The other day, Mango (don’t ask, it’s a nickname) told me I was totally crazy for waiting on someone who hasn’t bothered to contact me in months.
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She said you didn’t really care about me.
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That you didn’t love me.
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I bet she regretted her words when Nurse Ranski was busy pulling tiny shards of plastic out of her swollen hand with a pair of tweezers. It would have been way more satisfying if I’d done it with a real fork, but we aren’t allowed those, either. Or if I’d had my pen on me at the time.
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Then again, I can’t risk losing access to you.
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And this pen is the only way I can talk to you.​​​
Sorry. Stacey just walked by and screamed at the top of her lungs. That bitch has the biggest mouth in this place. She randomly screams for no damn reason. It’s an attention thing. She laughs real loud about it after, too. I’ve fantasized about sewing her lips shut in her sleep. I bet it would get all raw and full of pus after a few days. Maybe I’d get lucky and she’d get a bad infection and die.
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I’m sorry.
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I shouldn’t be talking like that. And now I can’t erase what I just wrote because it’s written in ink.
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It’s okay. I know you get me, and I know you love me for who I am.
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This place is just getting to me.
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I miss you so much.
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Please come back to me.
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I’ll be here, waiting.
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Even if you don’t write back, I’ll understand that, and I’ll keep waiting.
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I love you, always.
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Me.
xoxoxo
