To the girl who believes in happy endings

Dear little me,

I wish I got this letter growing up, I wish time travel existed. You are only fifteen, and I may be only twenty three but I have so much to say.

You dream of that stranger on a white horse and imagine you are being held captive in your home. That wistful look is one of innocence and ignorance. You don’t know what a heartbreak is. You have not spent hours, days even weeks trying to shut out the world. You have never experienced the free fall when that hand holding yours just disappears.

Turrets and rainbows turn into faded pictures and monsters in your closet. You think after half a dozen not-so-happy-endings you would be numb to happiness or pain. But that doesn’t happen. You meet the seventh prince (they dress in tee shirts and don’t call you darling), and your heart skips a beat and you blush like you did when your crush talked to you during recess. It truly is the you could have danced all night and still have begged for more kind of a feeling. Until the day it isn’t.

But scaring you into a life of loneliness is not what I want. There may be no happy ending but there is happiness. To know what it feels like when he reads the owl and the pussycat under that old elm tree. To know how the thought of him smiling makes you feel loved even though he is miles away. To have that one picture where he is not looking at the camera but at you and his eyes say more than words ever will. To forever cherish that night he cooked dinner (yes, rocks taste better) and you danced….your shadows intertwined in the candlelight. To have that one song that reminds you all at once about how he made you feel. And yes the fights hurling the first thing you find at him over losing a game of scrabble or is-that-lipstick-on-your-collar? Making up after the fights because it really was just tomato sauce(yes the tests confirmed it, not a false negative, yes I am sure).

Sometimes it will not be about love. You will make choices that end in a 7 AM taxi ride (messy hair and heels in your hand) or an empty bed and an almost illegible note. They may be stupid decisions (like the last whiskey shot) but you get to decide if they are right or wrong.

There will be a time when love will take a backseat. You will want to change the world, to grow wings and fly. Don’t dismiss that person who made you laugh. Don’t give up on someone who can hold his end of the conversation. Yes it will end and yes it will hurt. But if you do, someday you will look back you will regret letting him go without a fight. Because love that doesn’t last is just as true as the love that does.

I will not tell you to love yourself because what’s not to love?!

So promise me you will never give up. He will never be what you expected, maybe you meet six guys before you meet him maybe sixty. Maybe you meet someone else after you meet him and maybe he turns out to be Harry to your Sally. Maybe you meet him in high school and he is your prom date or maybe when you are in an old age home half demented and losing bladder control. Just promise me you will never give up on love.

Your so-very-messed-up-23-year-old-self



You are the one. The thought of you brings a smile to my lips and a tear to my eye. You hold my hand every summer as we lay staring at the clouds. Laughing every time a funny looking one rolls by. You kiss me in the rain. You hug me when I am scared, and write me poems when I am sad. Our conversations get me drunk like a bee on honey. It is all I will ever need.

You say we will travel. Together. Trains, old forts in the middle of nowhere, snow capped mountains, forest trails, skipping stones on rivers. Just breathing it all in.

You drive me to a farm just to read to me under the tree. You dance with me. You believe magic is candles and rocking chairs.

To you a perfect date is to snuggle together on a cold winters night and read a book. You know that nothing is more beautiful than watching the night sky.

Movies don’t always have color, neither do dreams. Music doesn’t always have lyrics. A painting is truly beautiful when you see that story it tells. A play is not just actors and dialogues it is a sea of emotions.

Like me you believe a house is incomplete without bookshelves, a piano, a gramophone, a jukebox, a grandfather clock and a trunk full of old things and memories.

You know we will grow wrinkly and old together. You know saying I love you isn’t important, because love is not a word it is a feeling. Then I will know. You are the one.

I don’t know if I will ever find you. This is my letter to you. If you read it I know you will come find me.