Monday, February 2, 2015

love letter to wilson or william edgar

Insert all the photos here

(all of them in the biggest box ever and even if nobody ever remembers them. ever. if they ever get lost then what we hope is that someone sees a feeling they left)

Then say what it is. 
Tell someone. 
Write it down and send it in the air. 

I am sending one to Louisiana via this blog. 
I am dedicating this letter to my backpack.

I solemnly swear, pinky oath, that you will get your letter. 
I know people there. 
I got some strings up in this place.

There are theories that love is a circle. We'll let that be our hypothesis. 

This is obviously a scientific study.
I know scientists. I have fellow scientists.
Love letters have already been set loose by some crazy kids in Mississippi.

Here is my love letter for my friends in Louisiana. 

Hey. You look scared. And I understand, it's a big world out there.
But, look around you. you're good.
Check your pockets. They've got something or if they don't, someone does.
You can find them by being kind to yourself when kindness is respect and love.
At least right now your hand is holding onto something.

This letter.

Life is beautiful.
You are part, yobeit possibly a very small, just the slightest portion of or the biggest thing in someone or something's world. And their world is beautiful. 

Yes, insane sometimes but it's good sometimes nonetheless. 

You are exquisite, and I know sometimes it's hard to believe because when someone loves you very very much they want the best for you, but please believe that about yourself.

Because you. 
You are beautiful.

And it doesn't matter where you are or how you found this or even what you look like. 
I don't care if you're clean or dirty or broke or wealthy. It doesn't matter.
You don't have to go anywhere. This came to you and not because I sent it.

What matters is that you received it.

Want to know more? 
Someone says love will surprise you. 
I believe that is true.

If you can get to a computer (maybe at a library). Then you will see something happen. 
It won't be sudden like a million dollars, but it will be something. 

What it tells you is you have to do one of four things.

1. Put this letter back where you found it.
2. Hide it somewhere else.
3. Write your own letter.
4. It's some kind of 

Really? Haven't you outgrown the hide and seek type thing? 



But we're trusting and I know trusting is hard because you have to trust yourself to love just one person.  And that person has to be good to you and by good to you I mean cares about what you think, what your very heart tells you to say. Once you have that person it is very very very likely that another comes along and another and before long you're renting out cabins and hotels and ohgoodgosh where did you go? 

But it's still okay if all you ever have is that one person
Obviously out into the ether somewhere. 
If they loved you you'll smile when you remember them.

(and somehow that goes in your letter)

Or not.

You don't have to do anything. 
You can also walk away.

What I know is there is no fear in love. 
Surely you've at least heard that four letter word.
It just makes sense and will save you if times get tough.

Today I am grateful for our talks, for the ability to type a love letter or handwrite one or whatever. I am grateful for my Mom and my Dad, two people who showed me what love is. And all those other people of the world: friends, relatives, those who left, those still here, there are enough people that everyone gets at least one letter each.

What I believe is that love goes where it's needed. For me that is so much a part of this big truth everyone talks about. I am grateful that people are so concerned about me they want to sign me up for a weekly class. 

Put a textbook on my desk. A pamphlet.
Magic marker. Big white poster board. 
Leaving love letters, I guess.
These people are constantly reminding me to be grateful for what I have.
If needed, hold on to that last thread.

When you have that then hide a letter.
(even if it's just one you found) 

Soon you'll take a walk and laugh.
Talk with someone, something. 

Name your volleyball if needed.

Maybe this won't save the world. 
Maybe we'll fail.
No doubt we can't help but be. 

What I love about those people who leave me love letters and textbooks is that they are just like me.
Love connects us.


Anonymous said...

Chill bumps are back.

Shea Goff said...