Monday, October 4, 2010

Molly: Letter to Henry 9/29

I woke up and for the first time the animals were gone from the snow covered grounds, the white winter wonderland where we’ve held them for too long, cold. And I’ve been held for too long, cold. I look out the window: winter, spring, summer, or fall, it’s always the same—acres and acres of lost dreams, won by chance. You won Henry, but think of what you lost. Think—don’t you remember? You wanted to be a writer once, why did you ever put down your pen? Don’t answer that. I know what you’re going to say, and you know it never mattered to me. You sacrificed your art, traded it in for marble counters and silk ties. You did it for me, for our future. But, you’ve made me put my dreams on the cutting board with yours- - don’t you see that? Everyday you ask me, “aren’t you happy?” Do I look happy? I’ve forgotten how to smile, Henry, how to laugh.

I used to sit and look at the stars, map out paths, lives, that I’d never remember, but they were mine. Each night I’d leap from constellation to constellation, never ending in the same place in the sky, but always knowing they’d lead me home. And then I’d be called in, too late to be sitting outside-- it wasn’t proper for a young lady… all the excuses they used to give to bind me. And I listened for a long while, but eventually time moved on, paths changed, and the stars faded, never leading me anywhere true. I couldn’t pretend anymore about what they wanted for me and I grew up. The great thing about growing up, Henry, was that I didn’t have to pretend anymore, I knew what I wanted. You. And from that, they couldn’t keep me.

You came to me that day, after I emptied my shoebox filled of childish memories, and threw away my pocket full of stars saved for rainy days. I’d told them that nothing could stop our love and if they didn’t want you they couldn’t have me. That wasn’t enough for them, so I packed my things and left. But, I didn’t go far; you had won our life in hand of poker and with it their approval. They thought you were rich, a gentleman made in an hour, and so did you. But what is money worth? Not this life. This life that I cannot live anymore. A life I’m sure I never mapped out, never wanted.

But where do I go from here? I’m more constricted than ever. Everyone ended up happily ever after, except me. They got the fairy tale wedding and all the riches that came along with it. And you? I wish I could say you only wanted me, but my name is too important for you to forget. You gallivant through town, throwing money here and there, just to make sure any visitor knows who is king of the mountain. You’re my prince charming, yet you refuse to save me. I’m still the same girl who would risk it all for a chance at happiness. And I did, but money has changed you into something that you’re not. Or maybe it’s made you who you really are. In any case, Henry, you aren’t the man I married any longer. And I can’t wait around hoping that one day you will be again.

1 comment:

  1. Notes from Roy:
    Good letter, full of history, emotion, regret. It has a great dramatic edge because the stakes are so high. The writer is trying to aggressively reach out and get her hands on the reader. To make an impression, even maybe force a change. So the strength of that action makes it dramatic.

    Great imagery too. From the opening snow covered grounds, to the pocket full of stars, and throughout.