Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Dear Everyone,

As per usual, it’s been just slightly too long since I’ve written to you. I think and think about all the things I would like to tell you, but I get so busy thinking that I forget to start writing down. And then when I get to writing down, I’ve forgotten what it is I wanted to say.
I suppose you may have heard that I’ve finally landed a new job. I don’t actually do anything of a whole lot of difference to the outside world, but then I guess that what I do directly benefits people that are trying to make the world better, so that all works out. I heard recently that the place I just quit working at will be shutting down at the end of the year. I know that I shouldn’t be as satisfied as I am at hearing this, but it is nice to feel like I have the power to close businesses…even if I don’t have a whole lot to do with it. Anyway, the best part is that I can do things like eat lunch and pee whenever I want, and have holidays off, and go on vacation. It feels like the right thing.
Someone threw a rock through my sliding glass door last weekend. There was a crash and a couple of thumps, and I immediately ran through in my head all the places where I could escape or hide. It’s an instinct left over from the days when someone was often on their way over to kill us because of things my ex stepfather had done and I would have to jump out the window quickly. I remember spending afternoons practicing pretending to be just one stuffed animal in a pile in case a day came when I couldn’t escape fast enough. I know it’s been about five years since he attacked and I hit the road, but the first thing I thought was that he was coming to get me. He’s probably dead by now, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he will be lurking just behind me nonetheless for the rest of my life.
I know I say I’ve forgiven my mother for all of that, and maybe I have. What I haven’t forgiven her for is pretending now that it never happened. I may be just her daughter, but I deserve more respect than that.
In general, though, things are looking up. I feel better about everything than I have in a long time, and I’m nearly ready to resume taking it all on. The leaves are falling and the roads all look like car commercials right now, and the seasonal drizzle insists on leaving a curl in my hair and a spring in my step. If I could write songs, this would be the time for it.
But I go on too long. It’s been ages since I’ve heard from you, also. Are you happy, well treated, and nicely dressed? Are you making an effort to smile at everyone you say hello to? Will you be a pumpkin or a witch or a bouquet of roses for Halloween? I want to know. Even if I’m looking in a different direction, you know, I’m still concerned about you. I just sometimes forget to stop and tell you.
I hope everything is well. But then, you’d tell me if it wasn’t, I think.



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