Letters to V the Mad

Communications with sociopaths, failed geniuses and other characters

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On Purposes

Dear V,

As I sat down to write this letter, the first since your departure at the beginning of the summer, something occurred to me: perhaps these letters are, before they are anything else, a meditation on absence -- on how I think and feel when you're away.

I used to write these all of the time, back when we would only see each other once a week or so. Now that we're together all but every day (except, of course, when you're out of town), writing these letters doesn't feel appropriate; why write down sentimental crap  when I can and should tell you directly? The letters become irrelevant.

When you're gone, however, these messages gain new significance, new urgency. The distance is palpable, producing an ache that lingers; it demands treatment. A connection must be established, and these letters, these stupid, overly-wrought series of characters on a website positively overflowing with them, help me to find that. 

You leave, and I type. It's my therapy. 

What I'm really trying to say is: sorry I don't write to you as often as you might want. I just want these letters to mean something -- for both of us.

Forever yours (but hurry back),

N

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Waiting

Dear V,

Time passes. Soon you'll be here, with me, again. Now, if I can just figure out how to make that time pass more quickly...

Forever yours, 

N

p.s. Even if we don't go to the play on the night you return, let's make our own midsummer night's dream, yes? I'll bring the flower if you bring the ass.

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Away for a Bit

Dear V,

I miss you already. Good thing you'll be back soon; at least, that's what I repeat to myself in the bleak corner of my room as I clutch your handbag and rock myself to sleep every night. 

Kidding.

Enjoy summer in the lovely place that is your hometown. I want to return sometime, and you know I'm jealous that you've had the chance to go so frequently. Nevertheless, come back when it's time!

Forever yours,

N

p.s. Never actually shared the mediocre article I got published on that new education blog, the McGuffey Reader. Check it out here.

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Death is tidy.

V.

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I am an erupting volcano.

V.

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Interwebs as Procrastination Tool

Dear V,

I love you, always remember that. NOW GET OFF TUMBLR AND DO YOUR ESSAY!

Forever yours,

NSR

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I beat a little boy to the last chocolate chip cookie at Starbucks. Such muhwahahah.

V

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Whiny People

Dear V,

How's spring break treating you? Is the weather nice? Is home everything you hoped and dreamed it would be? More so? 

Kidding. I know you're sick of that place, and there are moments I'm sick of you being there. Return to us already! The town is empty without your presence; it summons you! 

Granted, if this town were, in fact, to summon you, it would probably be for your capture, trial and ritual burning. The bible belt runs strong in the blood of these gentle folk.

But that's not important. What matters is that you will return, and in just seven days (and six long nights). Then begins the frantic rush toward the end of the semester. I love that shit. 

Things here have been interesting enough to stave off insanity. Work with the school district is on hiatus until the end of break, so I've been taking the opportunity to put in extra hours at the shelter. With the recent complications regarding bills and life obligations and such, this makes breathing considerably easier. The fact that I take great pleasure in the job doesn't hurt either. Actually. Really. Truly. Deeply. 

Did I tell you that one of the kids shared his poetry with me recently? Several times, probably, but I'm going to tell you again. It was a great surprise; I'll have to get him a book of poems on the sly. Another youth wants to work through Book I of Euclid's "Elements." Still another said he may want to read sections from Herodotus' "Histories" in preparation for the latest 300 movie. I am over the moon, as the old folks say. But forget that smarmy stuff. 

You said one of our friends started clinging somewhat desperately to you in hopes of attention. Was there really nowhere else for her to go? I mean, love and affection is not something you advertise on your sleeve. Nor is it something most of our friends find just below the surface, not that kind of care, at least. Why come to you? 

This is a question that I've been tossing about for the past few hours, and it occurred to me that I've searched for the answer since high school. What is it about seemingly unfriendly people (and I mean this in the most loving way) that draws the beaten and the damned? Hell knows I've been that guy -- I inadvertently built a tuba section around it. But why? 

Perhaps it's because deep down (or maybe not so deep at all), we really are those caring people, just the sort lonely folk desperately claim to need. Maybe the only people we're fooling is ourselves? 

Then again, it might just be that our perpetual scowling reminds them of their parents. Best not to think too much on it, either way. 

Whatever the reason, I love you -- you're far nobler than you let on.

Forever yours,

N

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Big, Special Words

Dear V,

Do you ever wish I would use more exceptional words and phrases to describe you? The thing is, I think you are all of those things --  I just desperately want these ideas to possess the same power when we're 70 as they do now. 

Forever yours,

N

P.S. Nothing we talked about last night could ever change the fact that I remain forever yours.

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Dear V,

You wanted a picture of Seth Rogen. Here he is. 

Forever yours,

N

P.S. I'm not asking any questions.

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Superiority Complexes

Dear V,

That sappy blog being read aloud by the people across the way from us? It's nice, and they can dream about people writing to (and being written to) their future spouses -- but we live it. 

Forever yours,

N

P.S. Yes, I know we aren't exactly planning on getting married, but that's fine. Every day together, at least for me, is our "special day."

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"When my friends start having children and don't invite me to baby showers, I decided I am going to just send them spinning wheels."

V.

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Family Visits

Dear V, 

I drafted several letters to send across the internet to you, but they were all shit. Each was needlessly verbose, followed with a bit of heady posturing that, in reality, said very little to nothing at all. 

God damn, they were terrible. 

Instead of drowning you in that bullshit, please accept this humble offering. I'm glad New York has had more to offer you than stereotypical street muggings and your disapproving extended family. 

You related to me stories and pictures from your swanky hotel room, the Met, Broadway shows and more. Lucky. I could try to say more about that, but really most of it would involve me jumping up and down and cursing a lot. So just take "lucky," enjoy and run with it. 

Forever yours,

N

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Year

Dear V,

According to Tumblr, it's been one year (plus a few hours) since I began this blog. Holy shit, has it been incredible.

Forever yours,

N

p.s. Every bit has been worth it.

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Cheer

Dear V,

2, 4, 6, 8, who's going to annihilate?

V! V! GOOOOOOOOO V!

Best of luck in finals. You've been studying your ass off, and I know it's going to be pay off. 

Forever yours,

N

p.s. Hey, you wanted to be cheered on. Don't argue with me about it being cheesy; I mean everything I said.

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Absence

Dear V,

First, I want you to know that I am positively head-over-heels for you. Also, I miss you terribly. 

One can only write about meaningless trinkets and trivial antiques for so long before the mind wears thin and begins to tear. Add to that an employer's deepening steps into the occult and, well... as the Texans say, "pray for me."

I AM pleased to hear that your family welcomed you home with such open arms; that familial connection is something the [redacted] have lacked in recent years, if I've heard the stories correctly. Perhaps your mother will even behave herself? You're watching Gone with the Wind with your father (am I allowed to refer to him as Abba or is that a privilege only you may enjoy?). This is but one of the many movies we "need to finish." Allow me to list some of the others:

Not Another Teen Movie

She's All That

Benny and Joon

Harold and Maude

10 Things I Hate About You

Human Centipede: 1st Sequence

I'll let that sink in for awhile. In the meantime, carry on and enjoy the first few days of Hanukkah in [redacted] with your family. I anxiously await your return.

Forever yours,

N 

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Weekend de-briefing

Dear V,

It's been a pretty great weekend. Granted, there were slow bits in parts, but how can we complain about dinner with good company at the best German restaurant in the nation, along with a side of American Horror Story and a Texas education in the form of brisket, cotton candy and western-themed photographs? All in all, I think we did pretty well for ourselves.

Thanks for giving me a chance to catch up on my work today. Don't think, though, that the day will be limited to that. There's plenty to enjoy, and I intend to make this a Sunday worth fondly remembering.

Now, if I can just snag some lunch everything will be perfect. 

Forever yours,

N

P.S. Yes, this is a minor letter that says nothing of worth; I openly acknowledge that. Just wanted to give you a little nudge here because I can. Look for something more substantial, coming soon.