The Letter I Wrote to the Girl in the White Dress

[ I'm not sure what I'm doing. Writing has never come easy to me, but I guess that's okay. I'm no John Green or Hemingway, but that's okay too, I guess. ]



This party is loud and there are beer cans and sweaty, obnoxious teens everywhere. This isn't my scene. I shouldn't be here, but then again, neither should you. A good girl like yourself should be at home under a snow white comforter reading Hemingway or Green. You should not be here in this obscure darkness with a guy at least four years older than you. You should not be drinking whatever it is that you've been sipping all night.

I shouldn't be here, either. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I would've been at home studying for that physiology test on Monday. Instead of securing my future, here I am following you around like a moth to a flame. I don't know what it is about you that makes the future seem so unimportant, so trivial. Six months ago I was all,"God, I hope I get into Princeton," and now I'm on the roof of some kid's house ,who's name I don't even know, watching you laugh with that old guy.

This isn't love. It isn't even infatuation. I don't know what this is, but I do not like it.  All I know is that six months ago I knew where I was going in life, and I was satisfied. But now, I find it impossible to sleep at nights for the inexplainable ache in my chest. But the ache is not above my heart, but above my lungs. It's almost as if I took one glance in your direction and you stole all of the oxygen in the world.

Until tonight, I have not been able to understand what it is about you that drags me in. I think I know now, or maybe that's the beers talking. I am not here, in this place, because you are beautiful. I am not here because you are extraordinary. I am here because you are alive. You are so alive and so flawed. You are the universe wrapped inside a pale, dancing package.

I am here because I have never felt truly alive before you. You breathe in responsibilities and worldly expectations and exhale the burnt remains of a predestined future. When I'm around you, the future seems pointless. All that matters is the now.

So, I'm am thankful. I am thankful that for this party, for this rooftop, and I'm even thankful for that guy you're kissing beside that fire. I am thankful for you, but I believe in the future. The future means something.

I'm going to go home and I'm going to sleep off this killer hangover I'm going to have. I'm going to go home and look toward the future. I hope I see you there one day.



Sincerely,

I've forgotten my own name