My T —
What comes out of my mouth sometimes.
I hope nothing in these recent letters has offended you.
Consider them a first aid kit. You may never need them, but who knows?
Let me stick to what I know and tell you a story.
The trip reminded me…
+
So there’s this boy.
He ignores his homework. His mother punishes him. He trashes his room.
He rips up his storybook…
(Kid’s got issues.)
Afterwards he tries to sit but the chair walks away, scolding him. Other objects too.
The fire says —I warm good kids but burn bad ones. (lol)
Night and Sleep carry the fairytale Princess away.
Since he tore up the happy ending, he cannot save her.
She asks,
—Don’t you regret that you are forever ignorant of the fate of your first beloved?
In the garden, the animals the boy’s hurt curse and attack him.
They lose him in the fight, injuring a squirrel’s paw.
The boy bandages it, and he sees how they love each other, but hate him.
He calls —Mama… The animals freak, thinking it’s an evil spell.
They notice he is hurt too.
In a chorus, they call Mama. At last she comes and takes him in her arms.
The animals, acquiescent, sing —He is good, he is wise…
The End
+
I’ve always loved this story. You know why.
The Princess part gets me most. (ofc)
First, that question.
I lived it. I had torn up a storybook too, you see.
Knowing someone is loving someone. Outside, inside…
(Knowing their struggles isn’t a burden; it’s a gift, a chance to love more.)
I always wanted to write. I liked it. I found the purpose in it much later.
The purpose of writing is to reveal your soul to another person, as it is, to be loved.
Truthfulness is crucial. So is trustworthiness.
(Your great virtue is honesty. Mine, I always keep my word.)
I read your writing and I knew you.
(^^ I’m honest too.)
Writing serves love.
Second, that mistake.
Out of fear, anger, or distrust, we often tear up our happy endings.
(We all deserve one, or more. Especially us.)
We must refind, recover, and rebuild them.
The purpose of writing is to create happy endings.
I write to make some, for myself, for those I love.
(Even ones solely for someone else.)
Writing serves healing.
+
How do I always wind up here?
I’m funnier in person. I see the humor in everything. That’s the problem.
These letters multiply like rabbits.
Knowing you’re there makes me happy.
Are you there?
If not, I’ll have to invent you. For my happy ending.
(I don’t want to imagine one without you.)
The purpose of writing is joy.
(This is a joyous moment.)
Writing serves joy.
— Your D
P.S. Don’t forget to add this to your first aid kit!
P.P.S. I just wrote a children’s story. If you’d like to read it, tell me.
(Pr, Fr)