Free Letters to Brendan by Ashley Bloom

August 12, 2010
    Dear Brendan
    I don`t know how to start this. I don` t even know if you remember me.
    Of course you do. I can feel it. You remember as well as I do, our time together, our summer. And that` s what is making it even harder for me to write you this letter .
But I have to confide in someone or I will go down. And who else could I ev er unburden my hear t to if not you ?
    You were always there for me. You were my second half, my soul mate. I can` t tell if you still are, because so many years have passed . I t seems like a lifetime. But when I think of comfort, there is only one p erson on my mind. T hat is you.
    That` s why I will confide in you, and you alone . There is nobody else who I could tell how I feel, who I could admit to what has become of me. Me, Miss Fremont, me, star of t he cheerleading team, me, everlasting beauty…
    Oh, Brendan , if you could just see me now, y ou` d be shocked, you wouldn` t believe what has become of t he girl that once meant the world to you.
    I feel so ashamed for t he thi ngs I`ve done to you, when you alw ays were so good to me. When you were the only one who loved me for who I was and not for my long legs or bright smile, not for my popularity or my beauty pageant sashes. No, you loved me because you really saw me. Y ou looked inside the shell and discovered a girl in me that could be so much more than just pretty. That was so much smarter than it knew it self , that wanted to achieve so much more than anyone expected.
    You were the o nly one who saw it. My dad didn` t see it in me, because I wasn´t like my brother, of whom he expected big, that he would join his lawyers office one day. I was just a girl.
    My mom s aw in me what everyone else saw, pretty little Rosaly, sweet and popular. And she had planned my future already. I would finish High School, find a nice man, marry , have children and be happy unti l happy ever after.
    There wasn` t gonna be anything more than that for me. And that` s what I expected from life. Until I met you.
    You were different, Brendan , you were well read, you knew so much more of t he world than I did. You were my Columbus, my Magellan , my Galileo, together with you I discovered things that I would had never come across on my own. Like the books of Kerouac, the songs of Coldpla y and the chili fries at “Ricky`s” , which I miss most of all. T he feeling of something exploding in your mouth , because those things were so damn hot. The feeling of being alive.
    My mom had predicted it. And I followed her wishes. She was right with most of the things she said, they came true. Just two time s she was totally wrong, I didn`t find a “nice man” and I didn ` t become happy.
    Well, my dear Brendan, n ow you`re surely wonder ing why I write all this to you. Why I load all my sorrows down on you. But t hat`s not what I want to do. It`s just that I` m desperate. I` m not only doubting the love my husband and I share, and if there is really any true happiness in this world,  I a lso have doubt in myself. I don` t know anymore whether this past that I always dream of has ever existed. That was no imagination, Brendan, was it?
    It was really there, our love, our dreams and our plans. And there it really was, the girl that I once was. The girl, that truly wanted to change the world, that wanted so much more.
    All that I want is asking you to answer that question with “yes” . Asking you to give me just a little bit of hope for the rest of this miserable existence. I don` t want to complain and pour my heart out to you. I chose to live this life by myself. I alone am responsible for this situation.
    I hurt you so much and maybe it` s not right to write this letter to you after all these years and ask you for a favor . And most likely y ou will throw it away at a glance , but I still have that little hope that from time to time you still think of me. And that maybe you feel a little pity for me.
    Just one friendly word from you… and I would