More Than Words

From:[email protected]
To:[email protected]
Subject: Not e-mail buddies

Dear R,

I’m glad to hear that your headache has eased, I can say the same about mine. I think I just needed a good night’s sleep. And it seems that we’re both involved in important projects. Perhaps the difference is that, from what I understand, you have to deal with people more than I do. As I mentioned before, I can do my work pretty much alone, although I have occasional meetings, but other than that, it’s nice to have the flexibility to work peacefully.

Okay, so if our little boat will dock on an island, I’ll go look for seashells and feel the sand beneath my feet.

I apologize for not writing last night, but along with this e-mail, as you’ve probably noticed, there are two attached photos. This means I came to the park this morning, and I wanted to reply to you from here. And I think it’s only fair that I describe everything I see. It’s funny, because since I arrived almost two weeks ago, I hadn’t come here yet, I had only observed it from the window. But the idea of showing it to you made me leave the apartment before I even started working and sit on a bench facing a lake, and it’s from here that I’m writing this e-mail. I didn’t even know there was a lake, can you believe that? But it’s beautiful. There are ducks in the lake, and even a swan, and I confess I spent a few minutes just watching it. The ducks here and there, always two or three together, but the swan, in all its magnificence, stays alone. It came very close to the edge of the lake, right in front of where I’m sitting, and for a millisecond, I thought it was looking at me too, which is silly of me, I know. But I wonder, did it notice something? Maybe it recognized something in me. Or am I just being foolish again? I think so.

Although the first signs of spring are emerging, they’re still subtle. The air is still cold, but pleasant, and the sun’s rays make everything more beautiful, lighting up the grass, which shines in response. I thought about your favorite color, and it made me like green a little more now.

Some people rush by, focused, with headphones on, others walk more slowly. There are children hopping, their little hands gripping their parents. One of them stopped, with a surprised expression, when a squirrel quickly passed by the grass.

I took a little stroll, and I realized the park is much bigger than I imagined, so I need to come back with more time, but I’m writing to you from here, for the first time without hearing the sound of my computer keys, only the silent touch of my phone, for the first time writing to you outside the apartment that will be my home until the end of the season. This time, you’ll be able to be certain of what’s around me while I write to you. I hope I managed to be true to what surrounds me.

And I must say, I completely agree that spring and autumn are complementary. Even though in opposite seasons, they represent change and balance. And it’s a beautiful perspective.

You said you were touched by the way I referred to your relationship with your parents and that I seem to see beyond, and that reminded me of what you said before, that I’m good with words. Maybe you haven’t given yourself enough credit because you are incredibly good with yours as well. I don’t know if I see beyond, maybe that’s something that only happens with you, because in the absence of a name, a face, and a voice, I can only know you through your words, and believe me, you show me a lot. To me, this is the most interestingly beautiful and honest way of getting to know someone. Which leads me to want to be honest with you in every sense of the word, after all, as you said earlier: here, there is no space for judgment or preconceived ideas.

You said you had a colorful childhood and asked how mine was. Using your analogy, I’d say mine was quite gray. And, well, rainy too. I grew up in a small town called Astoria, in Oregon. The average rainfall per year there exceeds 200 days.

All the seasons were a little similar, even summer had a lot of rain, and being very close to the ocean, we never really had typical summer days. I think autumn became my favorite season precisely because it was the only time of the year when I saw a change in colors, when the leaves on the trees turned orange and colored the days that always seemed so gray.

I was a curious child, but I learned too early that my curiosity bothered people. So, I learned to keep it to myself. There was a small community library near my school, and when I had permission, that’s where I would spend my time. There were some children in the neighborhood that I played with sometimes, but what I loved most was being able to sit on the worn-out couch that was there, with a pillow in my lap and a book in my hands and feel that my curiosity about things was satisfied at that moment, where the words filled me in such a way that I felt like I knew the world, even though I was stuck in the gray days of that reality.

I was also a very quiet child. Just as my curiosity bothered people, my words did too. I knew I should only speak when someone asked me something, and that rarely happened. Once, I even wondered if I really had a voice. And of course I did, but in the innocence of childhood, I thought I was born without one, or that it would just disappear if I spoke too much. One time, this feeling scared me, and my childlike imagination made me let out a loud scream, and wow, I knew how to scream! But my mother wasn’t happy about it. I don’t think I ever made my mother happy, to begin with, but maybe that’s a story for another day.

Actually, I think I’m talking too much, you probably don’t want to know so many details about something silly.

But R? "Email buddies" is really a terrible term, as is "correspondents." To me, we are friends, and I hope you agree with that, because I would really like to know that I have you as a friend. A friend without a face, without a name, and without a voice, and yet, someone who speaks so much to my heart.

I’m glad to know that you looked up the poems. And yes, I must agree that there is sadness, and beyond sadness, bitterness and cruelty. However, I feel that it was exactly that which touched me back then, because at a certain point in my life, I felt so much anger. Anger at everything. But I had to transform that anger into something else, and I found in the melancholy of the poems, something that sounded like me. I know that, unlike the rose, I am not sick. And I don’t feel anger anymore, either. And it’s truly a shame that the worm found the rose, but I consider myself lucky to know that I was found by you.

And please, don’t apologize for writing anything here, after all, no judgment, remember? I want all your words, even the ones that seem confusing to you, for as long as you want to address them to me, and in return, I’ll give you mine.

I liked hearing this information about the roses, thank you for telling me. I totally agree with you. We all have within us what’s necessary to bloom, some find it quicker, others take more time, but the time always comes, and that’s comforting.

Please, I didn’t say you were off-key, I just gave an example without addressing anyone specifically. But if I’m right, I’ll accept my credit.

And it’s nice to know that I make you smile. I wonder what the sound of your laugh is like. Mine is somewhat embarrassing, I always let out a snort when I truly laugh, which makes me laugh even more.

And okay, Since U Been Gone isn’t a bad choice, you deserve a point for that.

If you hadn’t even gotten out of bed when you read my email, then you also wrote to me from your phone, right? Another coincidence, then. It’s funny, I also imagined you using a computer every time.

I have to go back to the apartment now, I need to start working and I also need a coffee. The swan has moved away from me, I can see it far off, still alone, but just like the park is big, the lake is too, so I wonder if there’s another swan eagerly waiting for it, to finally offer it company.

If you allow me, I’d like to share a song with you, dear friend. You surely know it, but I’m putting on my headphones now while I get up to go back to the apartment. I think it suits the moment, so if you have a few minutes to spare, listen to Stand By Me by Ben E. King, even though we’re miles apart and who knows how many hours later you'll see this, we’ll have listened to the same words wrapped in the same melody. And that’s a sweet thought to have.

A.

P.S. How did your parents have a tarantula? Were you afraid of it? I can’t even imagine that. I mean, I know it’s a thing, just like people who have snakes. Or lizards. But all those options terrify me. I think I prefer the normalcy of a cat, or a dog. I liked the idea of the rabbit, though. What would you name it?

P.P.S. Maybe it’s a bold question, I don’t know... but do you have a middle name? If yes, and if you’re comfortable sharing it, I’d like to know. Mine is Claire.

*

From:[email protected]
To:[email protected]
Subject: Friends

Dear A,

A good night’s sleep really makes all the difference, I agree, but I confess that waking up to a new email from you has the same positive effect on me.

Yes, I deal with some people, and I can’t handle disorganized ones, especially when deadlines are looming, so when a certain someone decides to be disorganized and change something that was already set... let’s just say it made me call a meeting with the whole team to re-establish what we’re going to do. It might have caused me a headache, but I definitely gave him a much worse one.

This project is actually something new for me, and I confess that it’s challenging, but it’s also intriguing.

Hey, A! While you pick up your seashells, look at the sea, I’m waving to you.

You don’t know how happy the photos made me. Truly. I think it meant even more because I feel like I’m getting to know the place with you, since it’s the first time you’ve been there too. I’m not sure if it was the photos that made me so happy, or the way you described everything. Maybe both. Maybe just the fact that you wrote something to me, anything at all, makes me happy.

I spent more time on the photo of the swan, although the other one is just as beautiful. He was really standing right in front of you, wasn’t he? In my opinion, you can take something beautiful from that, so take the advice of someone who grew up with many animals and learned a lot about them: animals have souls, and they can indeed feel something coming from us. Swans are associated with grace, loyalty, and serenity. And maybe that’s it, you know? Maybe he recognized the serenity in you. The way your curious eyes, almost unconsciously, slowly explored a new place, even if just a small part of it. The fact that he was alone doesn’t mean he was lonely. And maybe you gave him what he needed, a little bit of serenity, while he graced you with his magnificence.

Keep watching for the signs of spring, A. Subtly, they’re taking over every little corner. And it’s beautiful to watch, you know? The birth of something. Please, if it’s not a bother, continue sharing the process with me.

The shining sun on a still slightly cold day is something I truly like, it’s a good combination. Here it’s raining a little, and while I love the green grass on a beautiful sunny day, I also love the smell of wet grass.

One thing I find rare is truly being surprised once we grow up. Of course, I know we get surprised throughout life, after all, life happens. But I’m talking about that genuine kind of surprise, you know? It doesn’t need to be anything grand, but it still has that special feeling, as if it’s rescuing something within us. Maybe you found that now? Just like I found a certain book with a certain message. You’ve been, for me, the most genuine surprise of recent times. I’m sure you were true to what surrounds you, for a moment, I almost felt like I was there, by your side, feeling the cold morning breeze, but at the same time, the comfortable feeling of knowing there’s a sun lighting up the day.

A, I must say that you brought tears to my eyes. The way you spoke about what we have here... I’ll skip a few lines to say everything I want now. Yes, A, we are friends. We couldn’t be anything else, after all, what is this if not a friendship? I don’t even need to know what you look like to know that I trust you, and I feel like you trust me too. I think we can say that it’s the first thing we give each other: trust. And I hope it’s the first of many. If I also see so much of you, it’s because you allow me to, and that’s trust. So, I couldn’t give you anything but the same. You see me here, completely without facades or defenses, so forgive me if it sounds exaggerated, but the tears that came are exactly because of that. It’s been good to go beyond the surface.

And I think this was my affirmation to go back a few lines.

You wrote to me honestly about your childhood too. Once again, like autumn and spring, we meet at opposite ends, and yet, complementary. If my days were colorful, and yours gray, I hope sharing them with you can add some color, if we can even reinterpret the past. However, today you told me about the sun and the signs of spring, where the grass is green in my favorite way, so you added color to my gray morning.

Honestly, 200 days of rain sounds unimaginable, I’d feel a little trapped in the monotony of gray days, and the idea of seeing the change in the leaves makes me understand why autumn is your favorite season.

I'll be honest here, because I thought about saying that I was sorry your curiosity wasn't encouraged when you were a child. But let me be clear, I don't feel sorry for you in the sense of pity, but I do feel sorry for those who didn't push you forward. One thing I've realized is that you often ask me for information about things, and that makes me happy, you know? If others didn't appreciate that in you, know that I like when you ask me things. If I can tell you an interesting fact about something, I will. If I don’t know the answer, then I’ll learn. And if your curiosity is about me, I’ll be happy to share it with you, so never hesitate to be curious about me.

Your description of going to a library as a child, finding refuge in the pages, made me think of the movie Matilda. Now, in my mind, she has a bit of you, or you have a bit of her. Tell me, can you move objects with your mind?

But, being honest once again, I must admit that my heart ached with what you said about your words. I hope you’re completely sure that you’ve always had a voice, A. It doesn’t seem fair that you had to question that, especially as a child, but you’ve always had a voice, and mothers shouldn’t make their daughters feel like that.

Now, I ask you a favor: never think you're talking too much or that I wouldn’t care about something. I care. I want to know. Your words could never bother me. Never. When you feel that you want to share something, you know what to do. Just write to me.

So, share with me as many poems as you want, whether they contain anger, bitterness, sadness... show me how you transformed one feeling into another. I’ll read each one, with my eyes attentive, and my heart even more. And A? I think I’m the lucky one here. You’re fascinating.

You’ll have all my words back, now no longer as stranger to stranger, but as friend to friend.

And I'm glad you recognize that Since U Been Gone is a good song, now it’s my turn to accept my credit for something.

And yes, I wrote to you from my phone, and it’s nice we have another coincidence. Sometimes I write to you from my computer too, but I think I was so eager I couldn't wait.

I hope the swan has another waiting for him at the end of the lake, a companion on his journey.

I’ll get ready for work, but before that, I put on the song you told me about. Yes, I already knew it, but as I finished my cup of tea and the rain kept falling outside, the words seemed to take on new meanings. They sounded more right, stronger this time. You colored my gray morning, A, so yes, it's a sweet thing to think about.

Thanks for standing by me. I mean it.

R.

P.S. Yes, a tarantula, her name was Infinity, and I was the one who named her. She was my favorite, and I’m a little offended that you were scared of her, she was a great companion for cataloging plants. I never thought of a name for the rabbit, but maybe Señor? Señor Rabbit? I don’t know, sounds fun. And you, what would your choice be?

P.P.S. Claire. Now I know your middle name. Claire. It’s a beautiful name, A. I like it. As for mine, as I said, my parents were a bit eccentric, and of course, choosing names was part of that. My middle name is Althea. Please, don’t laugh. Or maybe laugh, because knowing that you snort when you laugh made me want to hear your laughter. Not that I can actually hear it, but it would be, in a way, directed at me.

P.P.P.S. What's your favorite holiday? Mine is Halloween. (Footnotes have never been so long, but I must say, I really like them.)