Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Love Letters VS Love Notes




Some People Write Love Letters & Some Write Love Notes...
Enrico Carusso....I believe that is the name of an old Spanish Opera Singer. My Mom had very old clay records she would play on the victrola of his. When I say that name, I kind of roll on the R's & I like the way it sounds. I first said that name in 3rd grade.
3rd grade, 1975, saw a move & change of schools, which can always be good or bad. In My World, this move could have been better. I didn't like the wide paved roads as much as the small brick road we had lived on. The neighborhood didn't have all the mature fruit trees & old Oak trees that I was used too. The school was bigger & there weren't as many kids in the neighborhood to play with. Actually, there was probably more kids...but these guys played inside & I rarely saw them.
I met a boy in class & he befriended me. He would walk me to the corner of my street & then go back to go home himself. At the corner, often eating candy or popsicles from the ice cream man, we'd talk. I told him about my old neighborhood, the brick roads, the floating docks & canoes, the orange trees & banana trees and of course, The Big Old Oak Tree. Before moving here, I thought every neighborhood had a Big Old Tree. He told me about His World. How his Momma didn't speak good English & his grandmother lived with them & his father worked hard & about who he liked & didn't like at school. I never invited him to my house...we would meet each other at the corner & say good bye at the corner.
Except one day he just stayed at the corner and I didn't realize it as I walked on. I was about 1/2 way to the house & he came running up behind me. When he caught up with me, he handed me a note & said 'The Big Old Oak Tree...even though I've never seen it.' I took the note, it was tightly folded up into a football & asked what he was talking about. He said, 'Read that when you get home & you'll understand,' and then he turned and ran! I held the note, fumbling it between my fingers, as I watched him dash away. I finally turned and walked a few steps before tucking it into my pocket.

Arriving home, I promptly forgot about the note. It wasn't until bedtime, when I was hashing over the days events in my head, that I remembered the note. My sister & I shared the room next to my parents & the whole house was asleep. I quietly got up & retrieved the note from my crumpled up pants. I turned on the light to my sisters vanity mirror. Hunched in towards the light, I read my note. This is what it said...
"My Dearest & Most Beautiful Paiger~
I would like to kiss you as many times as there are leaves on the tree. I Love You. ~ Enrico Caruso"
Short, thoughtful, passionate, romantic, to the point & filled with lustful desire, this was a true love note...

9 comments:

psycho-therapist said...

hi,
love your writings! and glad you enjoyed the poem i posted. i'm really new at this so i have no idea yet how to add friends, etc. but you definitely seem like someone whose journal i want to read regularly (well, if you're like me, regular is a relative term). ha!
lisa

psycho-therapist said...

hi,
love your writings! and glad you enjoyed the poem i posted. i'm really new at this so i have no idea yet how to add friends, etc. but you definitely seem like someone whose journal i want to read regularly (well, if you're like me, regular is a relative term). ha!
lisa

Wed May 03, 10:36:40 PM 2006

singleton said...

This is a true love note.....
I love you!

Beerspitnight said...

I wish that I had his gifted love letter writing skills when I was his age. I could have been the pimp of my elementary school. Instead I was the kid who, when spoken to by a girl I liked, would forget how to use my mouth, my eyes would cross, my body would turn 180 degrees, and my legs would start pumping. All in an attempt to get away from my embarrassed situation.
Maybe that is why I started to write, so I didnt have to use my spastic mouth and gargled words to tell them how much I dug them. Maybe thats why I still write.

The stuff below is evidence of that.

7.13.02- POINT - 2:22AM
Make a wish.
Orange horizons in the distance, mixed with the bird wake up calls. Apprehension with the walk at the end of the night. Planned kiss interrupted by the uncomfortable state of mind. Hands in pockets or at my side or in your hands? Sick of me yet? Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in two months. The uneasy smile followed by the comfortable silence. Can you feel it? The shifting legs, the wet palms, the tremble of my hand? It’s all there. Do you care?
Make a wish.



7.20.03- POINT - 10:30PM
Can you see the questions in my eyes? When I open my mouth do you see the words standing still? Did you see my eyes shake and my hands cry?
Second guessing wasn’t in the summer’s game plan. Thought filled nights should have been left four thousand miles behind. Excitement should reign these months. Now I count the days not to my departure date but to the weekend. Three times today I held the words at the back of my teeth. Why do you waste your time with me? I offer you little. Is today enough? I read the last lines of the story over and over. It was the story written for you. We both know how it ends. Why do you still call? Why am I the boy with his head in the air?

I sit by myself for hours on end. Watching the shadows hold their ground while I think of things to say to you. If I call you too many times during the day, my apologies, your voice calms me. If I ask to be near your side too often, it’s because I see the second hand winding down on the days. If my silence is too long, its because I am of afraid to tell you the thoughts that run wild in my head about you. Maybe you will read them instead, or watch them turn to yellow dust in the end.

Sister Mary Lisa said...

Now I want to know if you ever kissed this terribly romantic boy?!

skinnylittleblonde said...

No, I never kissed him.
I'll have do to a complete post on my first kiss... LOL, it lasted for 2 1/2 years!

skinnylittleblonde said...

BeerSpitNight~ How is it that I never saw this comment until today?!?
I am befundled!
Reading your words I am moved.
I know not who you write about, but if i were her...
Why do you waste your time with me?
...I would say "Why must you question me? If you cannot trust me or yourself...can you have some blind faith, if just for a moment?"
:)
btw~ the boy in this story spoke broken english & probably had the very same jitters as you. i can remember him running away.

Beerspitnight said...

Those two pieces above go along with Self-Titled. (all written about the same silly girl)
-I met her during a 3 month lay over in Jersey (inbetween life in South Korea and Scotland) - She knew I was leaving at the end of the summer, hence the "why do you waste your time with me?"

skinnylittleblonde said...

LOL, I love it!
Sometimes for some people it is worth it to love for one minute & lose it all, than to have never loved at all!
Life is but a pile of moments... sometimes it's hard to make the most of each one.
I think of my Grandmother, who's advise I did NOT always follow, but she would say 'kiss those boys. find one that kisses good & kiss him again!' LOL.
Thanks for coming back & I'm so sorry and blindsided as to how I missed that comment for so long!