Tag Archives: letter

A letter to James Dean on sensitivity, introversion, & metaphysical relationships

10 Thursday Nov 2016

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Dear James,

The following quote has been attributed to you but I’m not sure if you actually said it as there’s some debate online regarding its origin.

Am I in love? Absolutely. I’m in love with ancient philosophers, foreign painters, classic authors, and musicians who have died long ago. I’m a passionate lover. I fawn over these people. I have given them my heart and my soul. The trouble is, I’m unable to love anyone tangible. I have sacrificed a physical bond, for a metaphysical relationship. I am the ultimate idealistic lover.

For the sake of this letter and my sanity I’m going to assume that those words did spring from that solitary, sensitive soul of yours, because Continue reading →

On feelings, friendship, and being female

21 Wednesday Sep 2016

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How would you like to be left at a concert by your very best friend? Aside from feeling utterly gutted, I was sick with guilt and worry. What was I doing dragging her to something she wouldn’t enjoy, and how was I to live with myself if something were to happen to her on her way home, alone at night? To further complicate things, that live performance ended up being the most emotionally intense musical experience of my life. It was, paradoxically, the best and worst night ever. This is a raw and honest open letter to my best friend about that night.  Continue reading →

A letter to my suicidal 15-year-old self 

29 Sunday May 2016

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Dear 15-year-old me,

I know all you can think about right now is the major science project that’s due soon. You’ve always been an exceptional student—every report card confirms your status as a ‘high achiever’ of scores, firsts, and awards—and you intend to keep things that way. Maintaining a perfect academic record means everything to you, and it doesn’t help that you’re every teacher’s pet. Later, you’ll realise that every mark and praise you worked long and hard to receive was a means to fill the gaping hole where a secure sense of self-worth should be, and isn’t Continue reading →

A love letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald

14 Sunday Feb 2016

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Dear Scott,

If I could have the moon, I’d give it to you. Wrapped in satin, with white roses too. Will you love me then? Will you kiss me, caress my hair, stroke my face the way lovers do?

How I wish to be held in your arms tonight, safe from the dark, the cold, the unknown. Close our eyes and forget the world; dance to the soundless music of our souls as they meet and entwine—oh, just think! Or feel, with your soft lips on mine, what it is to be understood and loved and forgiven, all at once.

If I could take your hand and place it over my heart I’d show you what I mean when I say ‘I wish you were mine to love, to protect, and to love some more’. Were eternity not an illusion I’d promise to love you till the end of time, my dearest, darling Scott.

‘Oh, he has such a way with words, it pains me so…really, it does!’ I thought and said and sighed, chasing you across the page, dizzy with delight. Eyes wide with wonder and heart wild with desire, I traced your thoughts over and over again with a shaking hand, savouring their beauty. I etched them deep into my hungry soul; prayed they’d nourish all its hollow crevices. They did so much more than that: I fell in love with you.

It is with the conviction of a madman that I write this letter, my phantom beloved. I love you with all my heart and I bequeath my mind and soul to you; do treat them well.

With more love than there are stars in the night sky,

Betty