Letters to Bear

The Silence of Time

Dear Bear,

Sometimes it’s weird thinking that the only thing keeping us apart is the silence of time. That which forces us to be patient and shapes us into who we’ll need to be when life weaves us together. That which teaches us and tortures us and turns us upside down. Until one day it calls out and without thinking, we answer.

 

See you soon.

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Letters to Bear

They Deserve the Valentines

Dear Bear,

Remember when you used to send out notes and candy to everyone in your class? Everyone felt special and loved. They knew we had them in mind, even if it was just because their name was on the class roster.

Valentines Day morphed into something else as we grew up, something that insists upon emotional proclamations backed by chocolate and diamond faced evidence.

I went along with it for a while, hoping for a bouquet or a teddy bear just as I closed my eyes the night before. But when I got to high school, I lost all appetite for its nonsense. It was all about who’s with who doing what and how sad that you’re not with who doing what for however long.

One year, I was almost suffocated on my way upstairs to Spanish, by a balloon bouquet that read: “YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE.” Believe me when I say there was no sun as the red printing foil trapped me next to Room 41, slowly killing brain cells I could have used to ace that test.

That being said, let’s make a deal. For you and me, it’s a given. We already know what all the cards say and how the chocolate tastes. There’s no need to shell anything out the night before, internally debating if it’s enough.

If anything, let’s tell everyone else how much we love and adore them. Let’s send them little things that thank them for making our lives easier. They might not know, and they should.

For me, this day will just be another one I’m thankful to be living through. No heartbreak, no tears, no empty expectations. Just another day. And someday you’ll be sat beside me, inhaling and exhaling the air of an uncharacteristically hot day in February, watching balloon after balloon float toward the actual sunshine.

See you soon.

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Letters to Bear

Knowing.

Dear Bear,

It’s weird not knowing you. Not knowing how you’ll smile at me.

It’s like the summer before a new school year with the anticipation of meeting your new teacher. Once that first day is over, you can never go back to not knowing. Their face is no longer anonymous. Their voice can no longer be unfamiliar. They become a person, not a daydream.

We’re in the state of in-between. The state of wondering. The state of not knowing.

But one day, some day, I’ll forget the wondering and there will be only knowing.

See you soon.

 

 

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Letters to Bear

Bear

Dear Bear,

Yes, I’ve decided to call you Bear. For what reasoning, I’m not sure, but it’s sticking…for now. I suppose it’s just easier to think of you in the context of a woods inhabitant than an actual human. If I were to think of you as a human being, I’d start to get restless. I’d start to think about where you are and what you’re doing. It’s quite a feat, to think about you. You’re floating around the world somewhere, doing everyday ordinary things, completely unaware that one day we’ll have a life together. I’ve never met your family, or seen your birthmark. I’ve never held your hand or fallen asleep on your shoulder. I’ve never nudged you in the middle of the night to get you to stop snoring. That’s all a when not a now.

Relationships take time and courage and heart. None of which I felt I had, for a very long time.

Jodi Picoult, an author that continues to torment me with her heart wrenching novels, once said, “Once you had put the pieces back together, even though you may look intact, you were never quite the same as you’d been before the fall.”

High school was a series of falls for me. I didn’t even know there were that many pieces of me to break.

I’m writing to you now to tell you that I’m finally put back together. And not only that, I’m confident in the fact that should I be broken again, I’ll be ready. I’ll be able to bounce back, no question.

So I’m just waiting. Waiting to be broken by you, or by whoever it takes for me to get to you.

Come slowly, but hurry home.

 

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