Dear Rory,

Do you remember when we held hands on your father's couch? This is the memory I will always cherish. I miss you.

Love,
I will always...

Dear Hip-Hop,

That’ s what my sister called you when you tried to give me that gift anonymously, 'memba? It’s been 3 months to the day since we last spoke amiably on the phone. Yeah, I know me and my memories. I remember what I choose to remember. I miss you so terribly, some times more than others. You were my closest friend. You loved me in spite of me, you knew just about all there is to know about me, and you loved me, never judged me.

I try to imagine forever without you and it’s hard. I remember the dreams I had of our future, and I wonder if that’s all they were, dreams. They seemed so real, as though they would one day come to pass. So now, here I am, 3 months has passed and I’m finding it hard to get over you. Really, honestly I don’t want to get over you because what I had with you, was so special to me, it stemmed deeper than any relationship I ever had. We had a wonderful foundation of friendship, and intellectual conversation. I knew you, and you knew me. I can’t even see letting anyone else in and that scares me. Scares me because I’m afraid if I don’t let anyone else in, I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. I’ll never have the children I so desire.

Sometimes, I want to scream your name and tell you all what I feel and am going through. But I know there is nothing you can or have chosen to do about it.
I don’t blame you for choosing not to embrace all that I believe, I applaud your integrity to your Jah, what you believe and your convictions. I only wish that the love you claimed for me could have or would have overridden them.

I miss your arms wrapped around me, and your lips pressed against mine. I reminisce on that moment, when last I saw you, 5 months ago. I had unlocked my front door, the sun was due to come up in an hour, and you were heading back overseas in 6 hours. I knew then, it was the last time we would hold each other, the last time we would kiss each other goodbye- I knew I was going to come to my spiritual senses. We embraced, we kissed, we were face to face, and simultaneously we broke the silence by whispering, “I love you.” – I do not doubt it to this day, the only problem was, the love was not strong enough for you to change. You said yourself, it’s like we’re from two totally different worlds, and it would not be good for me to come to yours, and you couldn’t see yourself transitioning to mine. Oh, how I wish that you could have. How part of me desires to wait for you to do so. But just as the song says, “I don’t want to wait in vain for your love.”

I know I got to let you go, and at times, I believe I am. Then nights like these come, and I find myself in tears, wishing you were here. I cry in my room, and try to keep it down so no one hears me. No one knows the pain I am enduring, I imagine they think I’m over it, and I should be- that is those that know.

I just want you to know that I love you, more than those three words can express…. and I wonder if I'll ever let you go.

Kuaasi’s girl.

Dear E:

I have a hard time telling people who you are. I can't really describe you as my ex, because you never will admit we loved each other. Maybe WE didn't. But I sure loved you. I can't descibe you as just a friend, because you were so much more than that. So most of the time, I just describe you as 'the boy who broke my heart'. I know, it's cheesy and campy and cliche, but it's true. So I hope you understand when I say that I am having a very hard time feeling sorry for you now that you are the one with a broken heart.

True, I was nice and chatted with you. True, I tried to cheer you up. I don't even know if your heart was broken, entirely. But I know you wanted him SO BAD. In your mind, he was totally your type: both of you big and manly and muscular and in the medical field, both of you looking for something stable to get you through your two years on the island. So it hurt, didn't it, when you saw him kissing that younger, browner, cuter boy? When you heard that he had said you were 'not his type'? When you realized he had rejected you without so much as letting you know?

You remember how you got all excited when he finally FINALLY agreed to go on a date with you? You nerviously got dressed, did your hair up good, got ready to impress the hell out of him... only to be sorely disappointed at the outcome of the night. Not even a good night kiss! How could something that you had pictured so perfect in your mind go so wrong so fast?

Does any of this sound like exactly what happened a year ago? Let me rewind the reel for you, back up to before you or I came out.

I remember a depressed, confused boy who lived in the body of a beast, a boy searching for someone to listen to him and help him figure himself out. Someone to love him and tell him it was OK to be this boy-beast who loved other men and wanted to be loved back by them. I remember writing letters back and forth in a fury, both of us struggling to express who we were and what we wanted out of life and love. I remember doing this for MONTHS, being your sole confidant. I remember it progressing to "I love you" and flirtatious texts and thoughtful deeds. I remember that I loved you before you were skinny, before you turned heads, before you moved to the big city and had a circle of hot friends around you that you felt you needed to fit in with and started shedding pounds and morals. I loved you when you were confused and hurting and needing someone to love you. All I ever wanted was for you to love me back, and I thought you did.

And then came the summer, and the much-anticipated visit, and the dance on the beach, and clothes coming off the instant your parents walked out the door every day and shushing each other at night so we didn't wake them in the other room. It was the best four days of my life up until that week, and I was in heaven. I thought I had found you, that I had my one. I went home, head in the clouds, thinking things were going to continue like they had for 6 months.

I was so wrong. The utter silence that followed was a million times worse than if you had just slapped my face and told me you hated me. Weeks I waited to hear from you, forced myself to not write, to not bother you. And as time wore on, my love for you ebbed and was replaced by hurt and anger. And when I finally wrote you, broken hearted and finished, all I needed was notice that you had moved on, not a letter telling me you were tired of me.

So I hope you can understand, dear E, why I told you I loved you and always would. And I hope you can understand why I was so happy to hear that your heart had been stomped on by a man much hotter than you. Maybe now you can understand what you did to me, how you took my hope and desires for something good and something that seemed perfect and tossed them to the side like they didn't matter at all.

I don't want your love anymore. I moved past that. I will always love you, I wasn't lying when I said that. All I want from you are two words: I'm Sorry. Before this happened, it wouldn't have meant much, just that you were sorry you had done something you maybe shouldn't have. Now, though, it will mean so much more because you know how it hurts and you will be sorry because you caused ME that pain, because you did that to ME. And maybe it will show you how much I cared about you, to be able to talk to you while you were down about it... and not kick you.

I doubt you'll ever say you're sorry. That's ok, because I doubt this is a letter I'll ever send.

I love you, and I always will,
D

Dear So-Called Friends,

I now understand why I didn't want to pursue a friendship with you guys anymore... You make me feel like crap. I don't like being treated as the third wheel. Just because I may do things that you don't agree with doesn't give you the right to talk about me in the next room when I can hear you. Yea I may be spending a lot of time with my fiance but let me give you a clue why. One he listens and doesn't judge me like you do. Two he makes me feel wanted and loved unlike you guys. I don't care if you don't like him. I love him and that's all that matters.

Also you guys can be fun to hang out with sometimes but when other people are included my fiance and I end up being the third wheel. Were sick of it, high school ended 5 years ago grow up and treat us with respect. Oh and that trip you took up to Sandusky made us feel like crap. We don't want to see status updates about how much fun your having we could care less. My fiance and I would have at least loved an invitation to join you, but apparently we're not good enough for you.

On another note no I haven't forgiven you for what you did to me in high school. Always being the third wheel and being talked down to was not okay. My first year of college I went through depression and where were you? Oh that's right nowhere to be found. I was at the lowest moment of my life and you couldn't even call me. I tried calling you but you were too busy for me. I hope you know I cried myself to sleep every night I was there I hope that makes you feel better about yourself. At that point everyone left me, and when I came back you still weren't there. I guess I expected too much from you guys. I'm pretty much over my depression now thanks to the love and patience of my fiance, but it always seems to come back when your around.

I'd just like to say this to you, I'm done. If you want to get angry at me over stupid crap go right ahead, if you want to judge me or my fiance go for it. We're happy together and we have found meaning in our lives. We're tired of your crap. And no longer value your opinion. I hope you grow up soon.

Were going to go look for better friends now...

Sincerely,
Bitter

Dear Future Husband,

For the past few years, statistics have been trying to convince me that you don’t exist. They say that my skin color, my intelligence and my undergraduate degree pretty much guarantee that you’ll never come along. I’m sorry to say that I’m starting to believe it.

My whole life, I’ve always been taught in church that I’m supposed to be found by my husband because “He who findeth a wife findeth a good thing.” Therefore, it’s not my place to be approaching men because good, Christian (and Southern) girls don’t do that. It makes you appear thirsty or loose and we just don’t do that.

Now I found out that I’m supposed to be looking for my Boaz. As I understand it, Ruth asked Boaz to marry her. So based on my Bible teachings, I’m confused. Am I supposed to be looking for you or are you supposed to be looking for me? I bought into it and now I wonder if I’ve pass you by or if you were simply too shy. Perhaps I haven’t exactly been putting out what it is that I want to get back. Sure I get the funny, intelligent brothas. What I don’t get is assertive, self-assured dudes who are ready for commitment.

I’m starting to wonder if you were even created for me and whether or not we’ll ever find each other. Honestly, I’m not getting any younger and I do want to have children while I’m young enough to match their energy. But really, who am I kidding? Odds are you probably don’t exist and it’s time for me to grip reality that you and our children may not be in the cards for me.

So, I am going to save myself the heartache and trouble and vow to have a life full of the three F’s – fun, foolishness and fuckery. I don’t see the sense in preparing myself for a family that probably won’t happen. From this day forward, I will push aside feelings of attachment and this need to nest.

So, farewell to you, sir. The idea of you and our life together was as sweet as my letting it go is sorrowful. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope life is good.

Sincerely,
Smarty

Dearest T,

I passed by our tree the other day and smiled. The same one you tried to hide behind to make me laugh because there was no way on God's green earth you would ever be able to conceal yourself. One smile led to a laugh and an onslaught of emotion I suppressed and didn't address the day I slammed the door on you and me. Guess what? You were the love of my life. Did I ever tell you that? Yes, you were the end all and be all of my existence. I was so consumed with trying to keep my composure intact that day I didn't bother to tell you the truth which was I didn't want to let go of us.

From the moment you took exception to my indifference, I knew we would be forever. You remember that day in the cafe... I was eating lunch by myself and you sat at the table with me. I gave you the formal greeting which included every single letter of your government name. You knew something was wrong but didn't know the cause. You knew I wasn't happy but you also knew I wasn't angry either. It irked you that you didn't receive my smile. You even said so. "You didn't smile. You usually smile at me." I looked at you and acknowledged I wasn't giving you my smile. You pestered me until I had no choice but to tell you what was the matter.

It was then you learned of my past. You took me into your arms and vowed to me I didn't have to worry anymore. You became my protector. I then smothered my protector. So much so you had no choice but to stray. I expected you to mature sooner than you were supposed to. Emotionally, mentally you were too young to deal with me and my issues. In my insecurity, I placed my whole future in us instead of enjoying you as the moments were present upon us. We didn't experience the true fullness of being a couple we were meant to.

We had fun. At least I think we did. The late nights. The conversations. The sex. The sex was delicious. It was the breath of fresh air to a closed up recluse. I was wrong for expecting you to heal the wounds made by another. The fact you weren't capable of doing so caused me to become argumentative and vindictive. Hurting you so you could feel the pain I internalized when I simply could have verbalized and released it.

T, I take full responsibility for my actions in our breakup. I know when I closed the door that day I had pointed the finger at you when it should have been pointed at me equally. Yes, you did dirt, too, but it was nowhere near the soiled adventures I took us on. I should have been accountable and maybe just maybe we could have moved forward together but my pride pushed me forward and my guilt kept me from turning back because I knew most of the damage done was at my own hand. I ask you to forgive me. Forgive me for the pain and suffering I put you through. I put myself through. I put us through. It wasn't your fault as much as it was mine. Please forgive me so I may let go and let love find me once again.

Love always,
Lady K

Key:

Peace!

I am writing about something I should have sat down and talked to you about a very long time ago. Although my actions say otherwise, I love you as if you were my own son. I did not think about these feelings until I talked to your brother about it and he admitted that you remember more about our time together as a functioning family then you do. I had to point out that I have known you since you were 6 months old.

When your mother and I broke up, I thought I would continue to be considered your father. It makes sense right? You were calling me "daddy" since you could talk. Since that time, while home on leave or on liberty from the Navy, we spent more time together then I did with your mother. When we had no car, I took the almost 2 hour bus ride to drop you off at school. I remember the times your mother went out to the clubs on Thursday and Friday evenings and you and I would eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz ice cream together.

When your mother told me that our relationship as father and son had to end, I was heartbroken. To be honest, I never forgave your mother for that. When she made this suggestion I protested. Of course, she shot me down. She was your mother. Before I dropped the subject, I told her that she would regret that decision. Ironically, your mother never hesitated to ask for money to help purchase an item you needed.

There were also times when your mother complained about you and I suggested having you live with me and she refused. I will also point out that a good number of things that I reveal in this letter I have never told anyone else before except my wife.

Over the years, you have stated how you were upset at my approach to our relationship. When I came to pick up your brother, you wouldn't greet me. At times, you were disrespectful to me and my family. I ignored those acts with an understanding that you did not know what you were doing. I want to point out that despite the fact that I didn't fight for you when I should, my family has considered you a son and have argued that I should have stepped up when your mother asked me to stepped down.

I have come to learn that your mother has recently kicked you out of her home after she finally got married. It broke my heart that your mother washed her hands of you. While I admit that you have been difficult, the things you have done are very, very trivial and I find them to be the rebelliousness of your youth. I know you are a good
person. At times you are misguided and like the rest of us, are emotionally wounded. Yes, you are a product of a rape but that doesn't make you less of a person.

I miss and love you and wish that I had been more aggressive in the manifestation of that love. I should have been more vocal when your mother made that decision. Yet I just did the motions and stepped off. I should have snatched you up to live with me all those years ago when you had trouble in school. When you were in trouble with the law, I should have arrived in court to support you. I should have called you and said, "come stay with me, brother."

I know at times you look at me and my family and wonder how it all might have turned out if I stepped up. At times, I do the same thing. I only ask that you find it in your heart to forgive me. Yes, I do accept blame. It's a tough pill to swallow and forgiveness is a tough thing for me as well. It does not change the fact that deep down inside, I still see you as a son.

Sincerely,

Dan Tres Omi