Love letters
Dearest Jk
Thank you for your email, I have to say that the text you sent a few weeks ago wasn't exactly the grown up good bye that I was hoping for.
My house is rented and my estate agents are complete bastards - so, all is right with the world.
My family are fine, apart from the fact that my father chopped his finger off making a chicken pie, and when he got back from A&E he made us eat it (the pie, not the finger... we hope)...
I hope your dad is fine and big big big kisses to the boys. Bless them, I'm sad for me that I don't get to play with them any more.
Despite the fact that I should have better things to do, I think of you often. I read a quote in one of my history books the other day 'Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps; for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they ought to be.'
So, goodness, but I want to see you. Still, I'm not going to. I loved you so very much and there is no point in hurting myself by realising again and again that you didn't and don't love me. My ego just can't take that. I can kid myself that I would be OK, but I wouldn't. If we met I would either try to sound really cool and tell you about the men who I'm dating (poor suckers), or I would get horribly drunk, cry and hate myself the next morning, or I would remain calm and cool and then start texting you when I got home in the hope that now you had seen me with my suntan your heart would have melted.
....And you would see through it of course, in the same way that I saw through the actions of boys I have dumped in the past and you would pity me... and believe me, my ego REALLY can't take pity.
So, thank you for everything my lovely boy and maybe one day in the future we can be friends.
Hang in there for me and I'll work on it.
D x x x
Dear Formby, Merseyside.
My oldest flame. You introduced me to so many people and taught me
so much... when I see you sometimes I think that nothing in my
heart has changed.
Oh course I hurt you when I ran off with London, and I would sulk
when I came back to you. 'Boring' I would say about you and then I
would call my new flames to see what I was missing. Of course,
what I didn't realise was that I was missing out on being with
you. The beauty I used to love when I was a child - the sand dunes and
pine woods and red squirrels where all still there, but I chose to
ignore them, wanting instead the bright lights of the big city.
I would dress up to go to the local and chain smoke cigarettes
rolling my eyes when I saw people that we used to know and
counting the minutes until I could leave. Running to Lime Street
Station to return to my lover with barely a thankyou for Sunday dinner
and the drinks.
I was wrong little Formby, and I am sorry now... you have stayed
faithful all this time wating for me to return, you have looked after
my family and friends and you have never lost that wicked Scouse sense
of humour that I was brought up on, but tried to lose when I was
playing with the city boys.
You're alright kid - you make me laugh and I'll come and visit soon.
Daisy x x
Dear Bruno
I found your love letters yesterday. They were at the bottom of an old box packed up when I finished university. The letters were tied in a pink ribbon with a compliation tape from 1998 filled with heart felt love songs and a 21st birthday card with a bear on it.
I read them all. At first it made me feel so happy that I had been capable once of such a great love. I laughed at the names we called each other and how desperate we were that the Christmas holidays had torn us apart.
I remembered one day when you called me in Liverpool at my parents house late at night and I told you that I loved you and missed you - then three hours later you were throwing stones at my window having stolen your mothers car and driven from London to see me.
It's been a long time since somebody surprised me like that.
I played your tape yesterday, and remembered how you taught me to play all of our favourite songs on the guitar (Lolita) I had bought down Denmark Street because I wanted to play like you did. I never got close.
Of course I don't love you any more - you know that and so do I, but years make the pages misty and I forget why we didn't work and what happened. As Oasis blasted out - for a moment Lolita and I thought we could remember how it felt to be loved.
And I wondered what you would say to me if I told you this? I fairly sure it would be 'princess, you've too much time on your hands'.
And you'd be right again.
All my love in '98
Daisy x x
Dear Sister
Thank you, lovely girl, for always being there for me. There have been a couple of times in my life when I haven't known where to turn and somehow I always end up on your doorstep, where I know you will feed me small deep fried nibbles and pour wine straight down my throat.
Every time I have come to a dead end in my life, you are always there suggesting something new to do, and embracing my lack of focus or commitment. You cheer me up and tell me that I am amazing and then you wind me back up and find a smooth surface for me to wheel along until I run down, then you wind me up once again.
I haven't always been very nice to you either, I've mocked your career choices and taken the piss out of your boyfriends, I even bit your stomach and made you bleed (but the - I was 6). I haven't embraced your choices in the way that you have embraced mine - because I am not such an open minded person, nor so comfortable in my own skin.
So thank you my darling, for the nibbles and the wine and the suggestions that you make daily (the last one being to make fairy cakes and sell them in Camden Market - not our wisest thought, but then we are getting a little desperate for stimulation!).
I'll come and see you soon.
Much love
Daisy x x
Dear London,
You've been so distant lately - why is that? I'm not expecting the same excitement as when we first met and moved in together, I was only 18 then and I thought that you were so grown up and exciting - and that you made me exciting. I knew that couldn't last forever and I didn't want it to.
Remember though, when we would go to that National Theatre together, or go exploring on Primrose Hill in mittens on Bonfire night? Remember the games that we used to play trying to blag our way into A list clubs - drinking champagne and laughing all night? Or those cosy nights we would spend in the local, drinking sometimes silently and in peace.
What happened London? When did it go wrong? When did we start to get bitter? When did you stop making an effort? Actually that's not fair I think that maybe I stopped...
Do you remember sweetheart when you used to meet me off the plane or the train and I wuld run to you with open arms? All the way home I would have been plotting things that we could do and people we could meet. All the way home I would be so proud that you and I belonged together because you were the greatest thing on earth - and I've been some places! I would feel butterflies waiting for the first glimpse of you out of the window.
Of course lover, there were things I didn't see at the time. I didn't see the way that you came between me and my family and made it hard for us to meet up, I didn't see that you encouraged me to over-indulge in sex, drugs and rock n roll. How could I see that when I was so in love? Were you in love too?
I do still love you London, but we need to do more than party and play now, we need to start to think how we can grow old together, I just have this horrible feeling that there is a whole new batch of bright eyed teenagers you would rather be playing with - and that it time, at last, for this once passionate love affair to end.
Love always
Daisy x x
1st Draft
My story so far… I’ve only spend an hour on it and it’s the first draft, so don’t judge too harshly… The topic had to be birthdays
If you ever feel like wallowing in self-pity, I can heartily recommend spending some time in small town America. I had found myself in a town in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences, staying on the edge of the town in a hostel with not-so-famous Hot Springs and a small wild dog infestation. As I bathed in the springs with the mountains stretching and reaching around me and the footsteps of the ghosts of Cowboys in the distance – it suited my mood perfectly.
For the last 10 years I have felt most alone on the 29th October anyway, alone and desolate. I am a very social person, but my birthday is the exception, it is the day that I feel even more deeply than usual that something is missing, which of course – it is. For years I had tried to celebrate it with style in order to forget something unforgettable, I hired a club in London for my 21st and once took a romantic trip to Paris with my ex-boyfriend. The effort of having a good time under the watchful eye of people who knew too much had become increasingly difficult and so this year I had decided that it was time to stop pretending and to spend my birthday remembering. I wanted to come to terms with the loneliness that gripped me tightly for a second like the games at the fairground you would try to win soft toys from. Winning was impossible anyway and it all slipped away before you knew it.
As I watched the stars literally hanging in the dark desert sky I gave myself up to memories until the night sky blurred. Finally, I felt like a stiff drink and I wandered slowly down a dirt path into the main town. The one bar in this tiny place I remembered from walking to the library earlier that day. Now it was dark and the neon sign above it was glowing greenly and swinging slightly in the evening breeze – Joes Bar - I walked towards it. It was quite cold, although the day its self had been soft, yellow and warm. The new coldness added to the isolation I felt as I stopped in front of the bar wrapping my jacket tightly around me. The bar looked deserted and lonely – in short, the perfect place to celebrate my 29th birthday.
I expected to find, as I pushed open the swinging doors (having watched too many American films no doubt) a gloomy room, with two pool tables and a number of dubious looking people with guns in their pockets. What I found instead to my amazement was a party – a birthday party in full swing. I found lots of people with shining eyes laughing and talking. ‘Happy birthday’ the banners said and the people sang, the lights were bright and the bar spotless. I stood in the doorway agog. Eventually as I stood there people started to notice me in the doorway and a girl walked over to me. Streamers and glitter fell around her like an 80’s prom movie. As she approached a couple of people nudged each other and pointed at me nodding slightly. I suppose that I must have looked quite strange and turned to leave. The girl stopped me and looked at me quizzically, she had blue eyes and a dimple.
‘Emma right?’ She said, I must have looked at her a little oddly as she said my name because she smiled,
‘You’re staying at the hostel, I recognise you – come in and get yourself a drink. It’s a party.’ She gestured towards the crowd of laughing, swaying dancing people who were all looking with interest at me but turned away as I looked at them.
‘I’m not sure’ I found my voice eventually ‘I don’t want to intrude, and besides I was planning on a really quiet night to be honest.’
‘I’m Kathy’ said the girl ‘and you’re getting a drink.’ She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room. The people all turned to look again and smiled at us as Kathy pushed past them and introduced me to everybody we passed, which I can only assume (by the number of hands I shook) was the whole town.
Kathy left me at the bar as she said she wanted to dance again. As she left I found myself looking up across the bar into the darkest bluest eyes that I had ever seen. They crinkled slightly at the corners as I stared at them, and I drew myself back to look at the man they belonged to. Tall and thin with freckles and tanned skin, the man behind the bar had dark blonde hair and a blue T-shirt with ‘Missing Person’ written across it. He looked like summer. I ordered a drink unable to take my eyes from him as I felt magnetically drawn to him, he saluted slightly and opened my beer. As he pushed the bottle towards me I started to fumble in my bag.
‘No charge’ he said, although I could feel an electric one shooting straight up my back.
‘No charge?’ I repeated looking up at him in confusion
‘Not for the birthday girl anyway’ he said smiling
‘But I’m…’ I started in panic and surprise
‘It is your birthday?’ he asked looking suddenly confused
‘Well, yes, but’ I started truthfully as I pushed my hair off my face
‘So, no charge’ he smiled, I smiled back and sat down quickly on a barstool.
Looking back I should have been very confused, but at the time I didn’t really find it that odd, he had mistaken me for the girl whose party it was and I had got a free drink – not even by false pretences. It really was my birthday.
‘So, why you spending your birthday with strangers, if you don’t mind my asking ma’am?’ he asked wiping the bar next to me and lighting my cigarette with flourish.
‘Oh, I, erm, I’m travelling, I’m on my way somewhere – this is a stop over.’ I said flustered
‘A week long stop over?’ He raised an eyebrow
‘How did you know that?’ I asked shocked, to my surprise he laughed
‘You’re not used too small town gossip I see, where are you from anyway?’
‘London’ I replied a little proudly
‘Oh, is that in England?’ I coughed out my drink with shock and he started to laugh ‘I’m joking’ there was a pause as I played with my pink neon straw, mopped up my drink and glanced around at the party which was still in full swing. Kathy was dancing on a table as yet more glitter fell from the ceiling.
‘You should dance’ the bar man commented ‘just as soon as you actually tell me why you are on your own today of all days?’
Suddenly my mood swung backward so fast that it almost knocking me off my chair with its force. I felt so tired, tired of bottling things up and being brave, tired of bad birthdays and not much better normal days and I decided that I needed to tell this stranger why my birthday made me feel so bad.
‘My twin died 10 years ago’ I said quietly and then slightly louder ‘it’s not just my birthday you see it’s his too and its all that anyone remembers.’ I failed to mention that this included me.
I remember Simon so vividly I can still smell him, and feel him close to me. Time has done nothing to fade or change my memory of my darling boy, I can see his sandy fringe and his huge brown eyes, with the long eyelashes wasted on a boy. Delicate and beautiful I had protected him from the harsh world – we all had. I couldn’t protect him the day he crashed his motorbike though and we were told that he would never wake up and I couldn’t forgive myself for that. Nobody could.
For the first few years my mother had set a place at the family table on Sundays for him – on our birthday too. Now though we didn’t mention it or him. It just hurt too much, that was why I had come to this desolate place really, to spend my birthday with my brother. All day I had sat looking at the mountains and remembering to myself Simon running into my room filled with excitement, eyes aglow
‘Emma, Emma, its our birthday, how about a dance Emma’ Suddenly I felt someone tug my hand.
‘How about a dance Emma?’ He asked smiling down at me ‘It is your birthday after all.’ And I didn’t ask how he knew my name, I didn’t ask why the lights had dimmed, I didn’t even wonder that the music had changed to a soft lull. The bar man held me tightly as we swayed together in Joes Bar in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. As tears seeped out of my eyes onto his blue T-shirt somehow I knew that everything was going to be alright.