Day 39—The Letter
Nikolas finished his project that day at around two in the morning. Then, in a moment of irrationality, he decided to check his e-mail. Rubbing tiredly at his eyes, he scrolled through the numerous e-mails that his friends had sent his way, some coupons, some chain mails. Others were advertisements and other spam products. There was one e-mail in particular that caught his tired eye. It was from Leonard, and it had no subject.
Curious, he clicked on the e-mail, opening its contents for his fatigued brain to process. “Dear Nikki,” it began.
You know, the only reason why I’m writing this is because I got bored and couldn’t face writing another song to an invisible girl whom I’ve never met. Well, that, and it was Sara’s idea to begin with. I wrote this letter down on paper first, like a journal entry to a real person, then I decided that, well, I might as well send it to you in an e-mail so that you could see what kinds of things my brain could come up with.
(Like, for instance, I just spent the past two minutes trying to think of an adjective that is a synonym for ‘bored’.)
And anyway, I wanted you to see this letter as soon as I wrote it, mostly because snail mail is retarded and I can’t wait that long for the letter to reach you. Of course, as I just figured out, I could have just saved the carpal-tunnel-inducing typing job and just drove to your house and stuck the letter in the mailbox for you to retrieve in the morning.
I’m such an idiot.
How’s life at your end?
But anyway, seeing as I’ve gotten off topic and rendered the previous letter (which is, in context, really just a long, rambling letter about how bored I am and how much I wish I could go bother you without fear of you possibly chopping my head off with a craft knife) completely irrelevant, I’ve spontaneously decided to just write to you as if I were talking to you in person and you were a wall that was conveniently shaped like a human.
(By the way, if I sound more professional or formal than I usually do, it’s because I’m trying to spice up my language and English vocabulary with words I found from dictionary.com. I think Garrick would be proud of me, don’t you?)
So now I’ve trashed my old letter to you, even though I should really just faithfully copy it down and not waste my time any more than I have to. But that doesn’t show inspiration or creativity, and I can’t stand not showing inspiration or creativity, especially when words are just flowing to me like this.
You’re really fun to talk to, you know? It’s even better because I don’t hear you talk back.
Okay, well, I’ve decided that, if I’m going to pour my heart and soul into this letter, I might as well tell you that Marianne is really starting to annoy me. She’s fucking clingy, man! It’s like I can’t go ten minutes without her texting, or calling, or trying to chat me up on Facebook. I’ve gone offline, but that doesn’t help because Facebook has changed its chat function to be connected to the PM function. Then I put my phone on silent.
Wait, before you snort with derision, let me tell you the magnitude of her stalker-ish behavior. So far, she has
Called me 23 times.
Texted me 64 times.
Messaged me 158 times.
Left 12 voice mails.
Oh, now she’s called me 24 times. And left another voice message. Thank God I didn’t give her my e-mail.
So, my question to you, Dr. Phi—err, Nikki, is what should I do about her? I don’t want to break her heart so soon after her ex was stolen away from her. That would be cruel. But at the same time, she’s annoying me and cutting off all chances of a real social life with all of her demands and requirements and shit. I want to be able to spend time with friends, too! It’s not just her that needs lots of different kinds of love!
Moonshine is growing great, though. She’s turning into a real fat cat, but I can’t tell if it’s because we’ve been feeding her too much, or she’s actually found that magical Mr. Tom Cat and gotten herself a little litter of teeny tiny cutie kitties on the way. Despite being named after a drink that’s illegal in the US, Moonshine is super nice to be around. It’s like having an over-sized vibrating toy.
…Wait. That sounds wrong.
I don’t know how to fix this.
Plus I just ran out of ideas. That’s okay, though. I’ve written a lot of stuff for you to read. And, it’s kind of late now that I’m looking at the time. 10:45pm—and I started writing to you at, like, 8:03 or something (specific times FTW). I might as well send it to you now.
Sleep well, lovely Nikki,
Leonard the BAWSS
PS: Yes, I HAD to do that. Feel free to punch me when you see me at school on Monday.
Nikolas never finished the e-mail. He fell asleep in the middle of reading it.