I hope you’re not too pretty

Handwritten page of a diary dated March 4, 1977

of course I have a picture in my head of what he looks like when he’s writing to me. Beautiful hands, and a pen like the one I used to use in second grade, the kind you have to buy ink cartridges for, and you see the ink sloshing around in there, and you stick it carefully in the pen before you break the little tab, so it’s right in place, and the ink doesn’t spill all over. Only I picture his pen is fancier.

His letters are awfully romantic for somebody who’s never met me in person, and they’re a little bit odd, but L.J. knows him, and vouches that he’s not a serial killer or anything, and honestly, I find myself liking the odd things he says. With some people, you get a letter from them and you can pretty much predict exactly what it’s going to say. But not him. Like the other day he wrote,

“I hope you are not too pretty. I imagine if we ever meet it should be at a truckstop halfway between our towns. Maybe in Rapid City. I picture us getting two motel rooms next door to each other and I would invite you over to watch the black and white TV, but you could leave any time if you felt more comfortable being in your own room. It’s OK if you’re pretty, but I kind of hope you’re not …”


Original image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hi-phi/48771723/
Published in: on September 27, 2010 at 4:30 am  Leave a Comment