this letter was never really meant to be seen. but after i found it in my 'drafts' box in my hotmail account i decided to finish it and post it. it was the most interesting thing that has happened to me today...

dearest boy who winks at the crowd-

it was around feb. 5th that i sent you an e-mail. i didn't really expect a response but as i saw your e-mail sitting in my inbox my heart leapt for a second. it was strange to be excited by something that trivial. i felt like a little girl getting a note from a boy. it really didn't matter what boy but that it was a boy.

i think i took more stock in what you said then i should have. there was this sense of you being higher than i was and i wanted to reach up for your hand and have you pull me up there with you. i didn't know much about you. i knew that i wanted to know more. that was when i decided to throw myself into your world of words and expose part of myself to you.

i guess i never really got around to exposing any part of myself to you but i did jump into your world of words. it felt as if sometimes i was wrapping myself up into this warm blanket of supposed reality. your words were crisp, clear, precise. they reminded me of how i once wrote before my mind became flooded with work and family and life.

i felt special when you revealed a project to me before most people saw it. it sent this tingle to my fingers as i read it and my eyes scanned across the screen over and over. i still read that first thing you wrote and laugh to myself. little did i know that soon my name would be there. i would actually be part of you world of words and i wouldn't just be watching you write. i would be the one written about.

i was getting sicker [physically] as we talked, that had nothing to do with you. but my body was yelling at me to stop what i was doing and sleep for three weeks. i laughed at it. you were concerned and called and called. your voice was like this gentle wave over my tired ears at times. i saved messages from you on my machine so that i could listen to them.

but just like when i deleted the e-mails because they were taking up too much space.. i deleted the messages. i'm a pack rat too. i have napkins from first dates and rose petals from my first bouquet of roses. i saved prom glasses and plane tickets. but my current state of life doesn't need old e-mails and old messages.

the thought of you moving to san francisco excited me. but at the same time it made me tired. would i be what you expected? would i be able to handle you in person? would you be what i expected? but really my tired body and heart just couldn't handle the thoughts.

i'm sitting here in seattle now. the drive was so long and when i pulled up to a random gas station i went inside. they had stewart's soda. i thought of you and i bought one. i just wanted you to know i got here and i'm ok. i'm sure you're fine, probably confused with your own life, but at the same time i hope you're ok. my leaving has probably made you relieved. that i'm moving on and doing what i need to do.

but i guess we both know that this won't work. that i'm not the girl you want to be with. or at least i'm sure i won't be the girl you want to be with when i return. i'm more head strong when i'm clear. i'm more pushy when i'm clear. i'm a bigger bitch when i'm clear. if we were ever to get together [whatever the chance could be] if we were to be a couple, holding hands on the MUNI or falling asleep with each other at night.. i'd always be wondering what girl you were watching or what girl you had a crush on.

it's stupid of me to wonder about the future [no matter how stupid the thoughts are], when really...it's so uncertain but i had a lot of time to think in the car, alone, with only mixed tapes and cds to talk to me. they reminded me that unless i'm ok with me and i'm certain of me then i can't give anyone anything...

if fate made me e-mail you that one day.. the maybe fate will let us bump into each other in a few months or a year... i'll be the girl reading a torn, tattered, used book with holes in her jeans, bleach stains on her t-shirt and probably broken, battered guitar nails. maybe you won't notice me and perhaps i won't notice you..

but it happened once over a computer.. i'm sure that it could happen again, in the flesh... i guess we just have to wait.. and see.

take care.. i'm thinking of you,
--yana