30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Seven: To the friendliest person you knew for only a day

If you told me your name then, I've forgotten it, but this letter is to you anyway,

You took one look at me and knew I didn't belong anywhere near the 47th Street Green Line stop. You were nice enough to not come right out and say it, though. I think you asked what time it was. I was reading, the same book I just finished, I think, (confession: I believe that, subconsciously, I only read that book because the narrator sounded just like *******. I think it's the whole learned-English-in-Kenya thing; their sentence structure is almost identical in its roundabout elegance.) and I recall being slightly perturbed that you kept talking to me. (Sorry.) You asked if I was waiting for a train, and I told you I'd just gotten off one; I was waiting for a friend. You were waiting rather impatiently for another train; you'd been waiting for a long time already. You made me aware of how much time I spent in Chicago waiting; writing this now, I think about how much of our lives we spent waiting. (This is totally unrelated, by my new favorite random fact is that, according to a Dentyne Ice commercial, the average person will spend 20,000 minutes of their life kissing.) You laughed at how long I thought the trip would take, because the Green Line is 'real fast', but warned that it would take longer if my friend was coming from farther north than Roosevelt. You asked where we were going, and marveled at the nice area our barbeque was being held in. You let me know where the bus stop we'd need to get on was, and about how far we had to go. I wouldn't normally talk to someone sitting near me at a train station, but you were relentless in leading this conversation, and until your train finally came, you were really great company. It was also pretty reassuring knowing exactly where I was going once I left the station, and I think my friend was impressed. You even told me to be careful and to have fun when you were getting on your train, and it wasn't condescending at all because I'm pretty sure you were a few years younger than me...just a LOT more street smart. 


Anyway, I never said thanks. :)


Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Six: To the person you're most inspired to meet

Dear ******,

It's funny how for this entire challenge I've had no idea who I would write this letter to, and you popped up into my life yesterday and I instantly knew this would be to you.
I had incredibly low expectations for this dating site thing. I really just did it out of boredom and my desire for a distraction from the mess that is my life, lol. Oh and because it was painful watching ***** try to find matches for me based off her profile, because even OKC only gives us a 77% friend rating, XD.
And my low expectations were pretty much confirmed when I searched within 25 miles of my hometown in the middle of nowhere New Jersey...nobody even remotely interesting. It didn't get much better when I searched within 25 miles of campus. I was going to call it quits, but some little part of me wanted to see what I was missing countrywide, so I expanded my search to 'anywhere' just for the hell of it. And that's how I found you.
After spending about 30 seconds on your profile, I realized I liked you more than any of the guys I'd spent the last two days looking at, and unlike most guys, the more I looked, the more I liked! You're really into grammar like me and I'm sure you'd love to play Scrabble. You're slightly taller than me, and a musician, and were an English major. We listen to a lot of the same kind of music, and there aren't many black (okay even half-black) guys I know who'd admit to loving Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. Even fewer would write 'hold me' in cursive on their palm and hold it up for the world to see. (Even before I saw that, I wanted to hold you. That just multiplied my urge x infinity.)
Realizing that you were from Ohio and I'd most likely never get to meet you was so 
upsetting. It was like someone was dangling something wonderful in front of me and then snatching it away when I tried to grab at it. Before I left your page, I had to send you a message telling you how amazing I thought you were. It was an actual compulsion. If nothing else, it would be a nice ego boost for you, and who doesn't like a shot of self-esteem in the morning? So I messaged you, and told you that I thought you were adorable and I hoped my message would make you smile.
You didn't think I was creepy (thankfully) and messaged me back, saying it did make you smile, and that while Ohio was pretty far away, Philadelphia wasn't, and that's where you and your band would be playing a gig on Friday.   

*worldstop*

I told the friend who convinced me to sign up for OKC about you, and she all but screamed MAYA, THIS IS THE BIGGEST AND BEST SIGN FROM THE UNIVERSE YOU CAN EVER EXPECT TO GET. I don't really know if I even believe in signs from the universe, but if I did, I couldn't deny that this is one. And either way, I can't deny that I'm more into you than any other guy in my life, real or virtual. But alas, I don't drive, and none of my friends are willing to take me to your show. I'm not comfortable enough in Philadelphia to take the bus/train there and back by myself on a Friday night, even after having just spent 10 weeks in Chicago. Grr universe for sending me signs and then making them impossible to follow. If anything changes, I'll let you know that I'm coming. I want to come. I wish I could come. I wish I could sit in the front row and that you'd look into my eyes the whole time you were playing, and we could walk around the city holding hands til the wee hours of the morning, maybe finding a park bench or somewhere to cuddle for a little while. 

But then the night would have to end and I'd have to lose you. Maybe it's better to have never had you at all? Either way, my poor heart is so disappointed by life right now. 

If only...

Maya<3 

So my best friend has been seeing this new guy recently, and is totally infatuated with him. I pretend to gag but part of me thinks it's really cute. She hasn't kissed him yet, though, and I growl at her about feminism and how she doesn't have to wait for him to make the first move.

She threw that right back in my face, though, saying didn't I wait over a fucking year for ******* to make the first move? I tried to tell her about **** ruining my would-be first move attempt in Philadelphia, or an early train ruining it at Christmastime, but she wasn't buying it. ...And neither was I, I guess. 

Should I have? Would things be different? I don't know.

Does it do me any good to think about it now? Nope.

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Five: To the person you know that is going through the worst of times

Dear Mommy,

I know things are rough financially right now, rougher than we've probably ever experienced. I wish I could be doing more to help. I want you to know, though, that I'm really proud of you for not showing how hard it is. I don't know how you do it, but I can't see any cracks on the surface when I look at you, even though I KNOW they must be running all the way through.

We're gonna make it. I know we will. Can't nobody touch this.


I love you.


Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Four: To the Person who Gave you Your Favorite Memory

Dear --,

I have been thinking about this all day, and I have decided that this letter is utterly impossible to write. I could tell you my favorite memory about each person in my life (though even that would take serious thought), but I cannot and will not rank them between my loves. 

Thank you and goodnight,

Maya

The Anti-Lesbianism Drug

Read (or at least skim) this article before continuing.

...I respect the honorable intentions that I believe this woman set out with, of improving the quality of life for individuals born with CAH.

That being said, however, I strongly disapprove of almost everything else. First off, who says this woman has the right to define what truly being womanly is? What qualifies her to dictate what is and is not natural or right for a woman to want, do, or enjoy? Personally, I don't think that

"women having little interest in babies and men,... and being drawn to traditionally male occupations and games, is “abnormal.”"

 and I know quite a few women who would agree with me. I don't think it's unnatural for girls to be a tomboy, or to think monster trucks are cooler than paper dolls. I also don't think it's unnatural for boys to wear their mom's heels or to want to do ballet. I think gender roles are dying more and more quickly, and I want to do everything I can to speed the process, because they belong about 12 feet under. 
What New doesn't seem to realize she'd be doing is undermining the entire feminist movement for the sake of making these babies "real women". Taking away the desire to go into traditionally male fields? In this country, EVERY field is traditionally male! Taking away the desire to not bear children? Childbearing isn't for everyone, and there are too many population problems in the world anyway. I don't know how she missed the memo, but being a secretary and then leaving the workforce to raise your kids is NOT the norm for women anymore. Move over, 1950s...it's 20fucking10. Not everyone WANTS to be a wife and a mother, and that's fine!
And this is a bigger picture issue, but why should these mothers get to choose whether their daughters will want to be mothers themselves? Why should anyone get that sort of power over another human being? This isn't exactly genetic engineering, but it bothers me just the same. Every human being is unique; homogeneity weakens species. I don't believe in meant-to-be's, but I support letting nature have its way.

Confession #next: My father just said that phone calls with me are the only ones he looks forward to. I didn't say anything in response. How could I, when phone calls with him feel like one of my least favorite chores?

I hate saying that, but it's the truth. I think it's impossible for me to see his name on the Caller ID without thinking oh, great. And I don't know how to change that. I don't know how to stop dreading having to talk to him. I don't know how to make talking to him something I want to do. I don't really even have faith that there is a way to find. 

I. love. my. father. I just...don't have much to say to him. There's not much going on in my life for the next five weeks. The answer to all his questions is "nothing", and it seems pointless to call him just to say that over and over again. And I don't feel like listening to him try to make everything seem better than it is. He gets on my last damn nerve sometimes, and I just don't want to have to deal with it.

He leaves me in such a bad mood sometimes. *sigh*

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Three: To the Last Person You Kissed

Dear *******,

Confession: I was on a half-hearted mission to kiss someone else before today, because I really didn't want to have to write to you again. It obviously failed, which isn't that surprisingly cuz it had been a damn long time before you.

Maybe this is just the next stage of my crazy overemotionality, but now I keep telling myself I just want to be over you. I hate not being able to say I'm over it. I hate this standstill we've been in. I was kind of expecting it, but I was expecting you to be at a standstill with everyone. So seeing you communicate with our friends and never so much as nod at me, it hurts. And while I can't ask you what happened to make everything change, I just blame myself. And that sucks. So I want to be rid of you.
But even as I type those words I know they're not really true. I just want to think about what happened as a past with a possibility, not as anything that guarantees a future. I'm just not really sure how to do that. I swear I'm trying, though. God, I even signed up for this dumb online dating site to try to find myself something to distract me from you while I'm laying around for the next five weeks.
I used to get all these great signals from you, and it made me feel so good. You made me feel so good. But now I don't get ANY signals from you, no communication whatsoever, and dammit I wanna know why. Maybe this is selfish, but I feel like I deserve that. If it's my fault I can handle that...I just don't want to let this go without at least talking about it. Can we agree to that? Please?


-My

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Two: To Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to

Dear ****,


I still don't really know what happened last year. I'm sorry for my punk-ass way of trying (and subsequently run away from succeeding) at addressing it. I hate the way we half-smile and wave like we're cool but we're not. 
I think you're a cool guy. I liked when we were friends. I was loopy and hopeful and over-the-top last year (I tend to do that), but I'm totally over that now, promise. I kind of miss hanging out with you though.
Today was your birthday. I almost didn't write on your Wall, because I'm always unsure about initiating interactions with you. But then I manned up and did it, and I'm glad I did because you wrote back to me rather nicely, like nothing was weird. It made me smile.
So I don't usually give second chances. But I guess I want to give you one. Or, maybe you to give me one. Or us to give each other second chances. Just to be friends again. Or at least friendly. :]


Maya

Magic special letter!

Dear lesbian lover,

If I had just one wish, I'd ask for diva magic ruby red slippers, way sexier than Dorothy's, that when I did a sexy little strut in them, they'd bring me to wherever you are. That's the only wish I'd need, because it would, by extension, give me love and happiness and joy and fun and everything else I could wish for. 

I miss you, betch, and I wish you'd come back to me sooner. Counting the very hours, my love...

Your more afrolicious half<3

Diva magic ruby red slippers like these:

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-One: To someone you judged by their first impression

Dear ****,

When I first saw you, I thought you were going to be an artsy grad student poet who comes to the park near the museum to get away from it all and focus on your work. In short, I thought you were going to be exactly the kind of guy I'd love to stumble across on a solo venture in the city. 
But I was disappointed from the very beginning: "poem" turned out to be "gangsta gospel rap". Park turned out to just be convenient because you work at the museum, and are not going to school. You're 27 and I don't think you even went to undergrad."Artsy" could very very liberally be used to describe you, but it's definitely not a word I'd choose. 
I thought you were going to be a wonderful discovery. You were actually just an ego boost, and I was glad to eventually be rid of you. 
Haha, it's a good thing I never trust first impressions.

-Maya 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty: To the person who broke your heart the hardest

Dear *****,

They say the first one is always the worst, right? No one understood how I could be so crushed after a week-long relationship, but our relationship wasn't really like that, was it? I've known you since the day you were born, and we [pretend] started a family of our own in kindergarten. And now, now I had to work up the courage to text you to wish you a happy birthday this year. Sometimes life fucking sucks.

And I knew that. I've known that for most of my life. I just never expected you to be one of the reasons it sucked. I expected you to never let ******* play Daddy. I expected you to write silly rap songs for me. I expected you to keep all those old home videos. I expected you to be the first person to really hold me. I expected that the feeling of your arm around my waist would become ordinary. Hell, after we were too old to take baths together anymore, I expected that a day would come when I'd see you naked again. But sometimes life falls short of our expectations, right?

Like after you raised me higher than I've ever been on a bridge of air, then made me look down and watched me fall, you expected that three years later I'd still be hanging there, waiting for you. You expected me to open my arms and take you back into my life as willingly as I did all the other times we were apart. Granted, you expected me to be angry...if I recall, you said the next time I saw you you'd spread your legs and give me a fair shot, because you know you deserve it. But you had all these expectations of being able to walk right back into that soft spot in my heart like nothing had ever happened.


And though it nearly killed me to do it, I didn't let you. I was stronger than that. I cried for days about it afterward, but eh, that was nothing compared to what I was when you destroyed me. Because that's what you did. I'm still not sure you realize that. And looking back now, I think you're the reason I pushed all my friends away, and you're probably the reason for *. If I couldn't trust you, then I couldn't trust anyone, and I could only be involved with someone I knew I couldn't love, because my heart hadn't figured out how to put itself back together again. So I said no, we couldn't try again. I said you had your chance, and you fucked it up, and that was on you. I said, however, that I missed you and wanted us to stay in contact, be friends, and you agreed.


I suppose it was silly of me to believe you. I suppose it's silly of me to have any expectations of you at all anymore, because though you were the first person who ever really knew me, we're strangers to one another now. Strangers with a long and sordid history, but strangers nonetheless. I suppose it's silly of me to want that to change. I've changed too much, and you'd probably have to, unless you have too. I'd settle for something as simple as you showing up on my News Feed on Facebook every once in a while; it seems somehow unfair not to know you.


If nothing else ever changes, I want you to know that I finally un-Humpty-Dumpty'd my heart, and while it sometimes still hurts to think about you, and it sometimes still pisses me off, I'm ready to try again...just not with you.

-The one you let get away, you silly silly boy
 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Nineteen: To The Person that Pesters Your Mind, Good or Bad

Dear *******,

You have the honor of being the first person I've written to twice. :]

So "pestering my mind", huh? What an unusual way to phrase what that's referring to. It kind of reminds me of you, haha. You're always saying things in ways that are unusual and thus strikingly beautiful. The poet in me wants to just hang on to every word you say. (Lucky for it, I already kind of do.)

You're actually pestering me much less recently. I think I've really begun to be able to control it. If I want to think about you then I can go off on crazy la-la color-me-happy heart-dreaming sappy tangents, but I can pretty effectively shut you out too. Which I only want to do now because you being so far away and not-easily-communicated with makes me just live in memories and not focus on the present. And hey my life is pretty good right now so I'd like to be able to successfully live it...sorry that that means putting you on pause for a little while though.

But when I do let the tangents happen, these are the kind of thoughts that pester me. I am wiling to take this risk for you, and that's saying a lot because I would usually rather just ponder from afar and keep my poor little heart out of harm's way. The way you think intrigues me. I want to know more about where you're from and what it's like there. I just want to know more about you. I want to have more nights like the first half of that night, when we just have a bit to drink and sit and talk about our lives and our thoughts and our dreams. I wanna have more nights like the second half of that night too. ;] Nobody's ever held me the way you hold me before, and I want more of it. You make me feel beautiful. I hope I make you feel some kind of way too. Sometimes I hear freaking love songs and think about you, and part of me wants to gag but part of me just wants to sing. Besides this disappearing off the face of the earth thing, you do almost everything right. That scares me, but in a good way. 

etc. etc. etc.

 Way back when I thought I kind of liked you for the very first time last year, a friend of mine warned me that you take these kinds of things really slow. I know now that that was basically the understatement of the century. We're opposites in a lot of ways, and one of them is that I'm not a patient person under any circumstances (it's something I'm working on), and thus this ambling drunk depressed turtle rate at which this has been moving for the past year is KILLING me. I think you realize by now that I will be receptive to whatever moves you make, and I'm hoping this will cause you to be less tentative in the future. But I've got a back up plan: I will put the moves on you by week 2, that's a promise!

I miss you and I hope you're having an amazing time at home,

Maya 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Eighteen: To the Person You Wish You Could Be

Dear Maya of My Dreams,

You're actually seriously confident, instead of this fake bravado shell confidence you put forth now. You are no longer ashamed of things that shouldn't shame you. You can take a compliment. You will also be able to take criticism well. You're more open-minded, but haven't lost any of your beliefs. You meditate as often as you want to. You aren't afraid to admit that rock/alternative is probably your favorite music genre, despite the color of your skin. You now what you want, and then make plans and action steps to get it. You're strong without being a rock. You're smart without being reserved. You're spontaneous without being stupid. You choose wisely and love freely and live well. You spend less time on makeup and hair removal and appreciate your natural beauty. On that note, you accept that you are naturally beautiful. You accept and embrace your past, treasuring it because it made you who you are, and you will also be able to let the past go and realize that most of the things that happened then do not matter anymore. You find ways to compromise with other people without compromising yourself. You find a way to make each day an adventure, and a success. You respect yourself in your every thought and action. You know when to care what other people think and when to just do your own thing. You don't get nervous when you're speaking in public, and can remain outwardly calm in stressful situations. You don't feel like such a freak for not wanting the things most people want. You don't analyze your life so much. You're comfortable with your body. You have the most awesome jewelry organizer ever. You can make anywhere you go be fun, even if it's boring old ML. You still have the best best friends in the whole orld. You're better at keeping in touch with people. You try new things even if they scare you. You don't worry so much about everything. You're less of a perfectionist and less of a procrastinator. You're an optimist. You remember to send cards to people on their birthdays. You have a savings account with money in it...preferably more money than is in your checking account. You've gotten back in touch with your artistic side, preferably in the form of paint and/or clay. You make music again on a semi-regular basis. You are happy. You are loved, and you love in return. You've stopped setting such unrealistic impossibly high standards for everything. You know how to really relax. You are patient. You are tolerant. You come to terms with how you feel about spirituality. You have concrete goals. You're independent without seeming like you don't need anybody else, you are fierce without seeming angry. Hell, maybe you're even a little playfully dangerous. Your head and your heart are no longer at war. You've stopped biting your nails. 

You're generally an awesome person, and I'm striving to become more like you every day.

<3,

The imperfect (but still hopefully kind of cool) Maya of today

18th Floor Balcony/Blue October

I have loved this song since the first time I heard it, but today it goes out to the birthday boy, even though it's not his birthday anymore where he is. I know where he is but not where he stands, so for now "I raise my hands as if to show you that I was yours/that I was so yours for the taking/I'm so yours for the taking". So I'm here waiting to be a belated birthday present if you want me. And if you don't that's cool too, I'd just like to know one way or the other. Kthnx.

Til then, "our hearts were on display/for all to see/I can't believe this is happening to me"...

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Seventeen: To Someone from your Childhood

Dear ********,

You fbchatted me today just to say hey, and I took that as a sign from the universe that I should write today's letter to you. As my best friend in 2nd and 3rd grade who just mysteriously disappeared off the face of the earth one day, you totally count as someone from my childhood. It's funny, I think about you a lot when I'm at school, because my eating club (don't ask) has a moose as its mascot, and the clearest thing in my memory of you is your love for moose. I think that's what inspired me to see if I could find you on facebook, and seeing as how you were friends with ******, that wasn't very hard to do at all. 
You're another one of the people I was thinking about during my recent reflection on friendships and growing up in general. When we were 7 or 8, me climbing up into that tree and hanging out over Harding Highway to talk to you while you sat in your bedroom windowseat was the most important thing ever. Going across the street to jump on your trampoline was a close second. But then I moved to Pleasantville (shh don't tell Hess School) and one day you weren't at school anymore. Somehow I eventually learned that you'd moved to New York and hadn't told me you were leaving, and that was the last I ever saw or heard of you until my random facebook wanderings.
But now that I've found you it's kind of weird. You're in New Mexico now and I think you're a lesbian and you work some sort of normal job and you don't go to school and as much as I hate to say this, I feel like you're going to go from being a person I haven't talked to to being a person I can't talk to, which is going to be sad. We don't have anything in common anymore, besides fuzzy memories of American Girl dolls and asparagus. Sadface. I do enjoy being updated on your life via facebook, though, so let's stay friends, k? Even if that's the only way we keep in touch.


Best,


Maya

It's just emotions takin me over...

Two words: 

 emotional detachment

I really don't understand them as a concept. My best friend has been going on all these dates with all these guys and my close-mindedness is rearing its pesky head, because I disapprove of all of this so hard. She sounds like an asshole guy (my apologies for the sexism) saying that she's just "having fun" with them. And I'm sorry, but I really just can't support using another human being for whatever pleasure you derive from them and then tossing them to the side. No matter how you spin it and try to dress it up, that's just not okay.

She says it's all just part of this game called love, and I realized that's my biggest problem with this whole romance/dating thing; why the fuck do we as a society treat something that is so important like it's a GAME?! It's why I can't watch any of those reality dating shows either; this should not be a fucking joke, and I really can't stand that people think of it like that these days.

Call me old-fashioned, but I STILL cry when Mufasa dies. I can't watch war movies because looking into a soldier's eyes for half a second and then seeing a bullet rip through him will leave me in a puddle on the floor. As much as I claim to hate sappiness, The Notebook and Titanic are my two favorite movies of all time. I cried when Obama was elected and I cried when I found out someone thought I had been rude on the first day of the conference and I cry when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm frustrated, when I'm upset, when I'm feeling overwhelmed, etc. etc. Also, it is physically impossible for me to watch someone else cry, even on television, without tears springing to my own eyes.

To make a long story short, I'm an overly emotional person. My swimming teacher in 5th grade once told me I cry at the drop of a hat...to this day, she's not far off. I form instant bonds with people and things and lose a part of myself by losing that bond. It causes me to keep a lot of objects (and probably people) in my life that I should have let go a long time ago, but I have a serious problem letting things go. One might say I'm an emotional hoarder. But as an always-writer and sometimes-artist and trying-to-be-free-spirit, what else can I do? Emotions are the crayons of my coloring-book world, and as much as I love black and white photography, sometimes the grass just needs to be green. 

That being said, emotional detachment as a concept terrifies me. It's, like, a fate worse than death: it would mean being so far removed from a situation that I don't form a bond. I am and have always been the kind of person that tries to give all of herself to everything in her life...but maybe I'm a bit too literal about the word "everything". Unless I'm totally and completely not vibing with a person, and thus feeling like I should not trust them for some reason, I open the door to my coloring-book world and ask them what color they'd like. It's really as simple as that. You're in or you're out. Ain't no such thang as halfway crooks!

So this detachment thing...it would require an inherent inability to trust. And there can be no love without trust. And what is life without love? (SN: this is a word I also use far too liberally. "Like" is total weaksauce in my book, and be wary if I use it around you...I'm probably trying to be nice.) It would be like saying NO I WILL NOT CARE ABOUT YOU before they even get a chance. I don't understand how I could be myself without getting my emotions involved; hell, I don't understand how I could be anything but a bump on a log. I don't understand why I would even listen to a word they say or remember their name if I'm trying to be detached from the situation...why even try to make memories? I tell you, I don't understand it. My world used to be walled in, but the right people came along and tore that me down, brick by brick. Now I only call on the guards in EXTREME circumstances, haha. I'm an open book, and I invite (almost) everyone in to color my world. Tabula rasa, right? Well imagine all the pages that I'd be missing if there was a waiting period before I handed people a crayon? How different would my world be? What parts would be missing?

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Sixteen: To Someone Who's Not in Your State/Country

Dear *****,

Sometime between August 7th and whenever you go back to school, you should come to Jerseyyyy. I miss you! You're one of the people I was thinking about when I was musing on how growing up treats friendships unfairly the other day. It sucks how when you're 13, a few hours away might as well be the freaking moon, haha. 


But it doesn't have to be now that we're 20! And by we I obviously mean the other two points of our love triangle and not our cute little baby, hehe. But we still love you :D 


And because we love you me and point three need to make a superawesome plan to come crash Nova! My weekends should be freer --that's a weird word--more free this semester! Let's have another awesome theme party like argghhhh pirates.


ALSO, most important: why do we never ever chat?? I know nothing about your life and this makes me sadddddddd.

A present for you:

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Fifteen: To the Person You Miss the Most

Dear Person I Miss the Most,


I'm having issues writing this letter. I'm slightly confused as to whether or not this is a good thing, but I'm not exactly sure who you are. There are many moments when I strongly miss someone in that moment, such as when I'm at the beach or when I'm having an India party or when I did that double-take on the train last week. But like, an overall pining over someone that I miss above everyone else?? No one is really standing out to me. It's not the silly boy; I'm still convinced that I've successfully moved him to the back burner of my life for the time being, despite what the best friend says. It's not the best friend, I'm pretty used to our relationship being primarily digital. Sometimes it's my mommy but only for a moment.
Last summer I would have had issues writing this letter as well, but for totally different reasons. I'd have missed so many people so much that it would be hard to choose who to write to. Besides another year's worth of life lessons and maturity, I guess the obvious difference is Chicago. My life is just so FULL here; it's sometimes hard to even remember the things I miss unless I really try to focus on them. A dull day in this city has to be, like, an active decision, haha.Instead of just distracting myself with things to fill the days, here I can actively plan a new adventure each day and feel satisfied at night after my exploration. It's a pretty fulfilling way of life; I'm going to miss it.
So I don't know who it is right now, but in a few weeks the person I miss most will probably be the independent-city-explorer-fulfilled-curious-free-to-be-herself person I have been here. Home will squish her like a bug. *sigh*


-My

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Fourteen: To Someone You've Drifted Away From

Dear *******,

Confession #1: If I'd just met you recently, I wouldn't be your friend. In fact, I think part of me would scoff at the idea of us being friends, because when it comes to the things that shouldn't be important but totally are, you're totally not on my level.

 But lucky (?) for us, I didn't just meet you recently. I met you what seems like a zillion years ago on the new playground at our elementary school, and truth be told, I didn't pay much attention to you then. A few years later a giant hole was ripped out of my life, and you stepped in to fill it. The rest is, as they say, history. 

I've been saying this for years, but sometimes I really doubt that history is enough to push us through. I know it's supposed to be Breakfast at Tiffany's and we only need that one thing, but I...need to feel like there's a reason we're a "we" now, besides the fact that we have been for the last 8 years or so.

When I first started feeling this way, we used to fight all the time. And I hate us fighting; it's like you're so huge and critical a part of my life and my memory that when something is wrong with "us", little pieces of my whole world come crashing down around me and everything is a bit shakier. I know it's not like that for you, and it never has been. I can accept that. We don't fight as much now anymore, and when we do, it's less vocal and full of cursing each other out and other terribleness. Now we'll just go a few days without talking to one another until one of us assumes we have both cooled down enough to apologize without fully meaning it and keep on keepin on. 

Confession #2: Sometimes I really miss those loud violent fights, because they at least showed that we still cared. Sometimes I feel like this new way is like it's not even important enough to waste the energy, which frightens me.

Confession #3: Do you ever feel like we're faking it? Like we're trying to make ourselves fit into roles we've outgrown and pasts that have grown fuzzy and misshapen? 

We don't do the things we used to do anymore. I can't believe we used to talk on the phone for hours every single day and now I can't even remember the last time I called you. But on the flipside, you used to almost never come over and now I joke about getting you a key to the house. So maybe this is just the natural next step to our relationship. We gain ground some places, and lose ground in other places...maybe it balances itself out. I still love you with as much of my heart as I can spare, and I'm going to keep telling the little voice in the back of my head that sometimes wonders do we even like each other anymore? to  because you're always going to have that place in my heart, okay?

There are things I hate about this place we're in now. I hate that I don't know any of your other friends anymore. I realize it's just because of the way our lives are organized now, but it sometimes kind of makes me feel like the significant other you don't want anyone to know about. I hate that I feel like you're growing up so much faster than me now. I think I did my growing up faster before we knew each other. I hate that there are silences in our conversations both online and in-person, and I find myself wondering if they're comfortable or not. I hate that voice in the back of my head that questions us, and I want to convince it that it doesn't need to. 

Help me out by taking me on an adventure, k? Help me by really being you around me, and I'll really be me around you, and we'll find a new kind of friends to be, since we're not the people we were when we were BFFs.

I love you and I miss you and I'll see you when we both get back to Jersey,

Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Thirteen: To Someone You Wish Could Forgive You

Dear Me,

You do realize that you can't be perfect, right? Like, despite the crazy expectations people have had for you over the years, it's actually not possible. Impossible is nothing is a great motto until you keel over and die at 45 from all the stress and lack of happiness in your life. I really need you to stop treating every slight mishap as a total failure, and regarding yourself the same because of it. You don't always have to be the best, or the one on top, or the one who gets the credit for doing whatever. You don't always have to be in charge. It's okay to not always have an S on your chest...you're a strong woman, and a sensual woman, and a sassy woman, and a smart woman, but you don't have to be a superwoman. You really don't. It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It's okay to not know the answers to certain questions. It's okay to not always be smiling and happy. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to feel like you're in over your head. If running this conference for the past week has taught you anything about superstrength, it's that it's the most exhausting thing in the world, and it WILL wear you down. Regular strength and savvy can come in and save the day though, as long as you keep pushing through. Ask for help when you need it. Stop trying to take on the whole world with one hand tied behind your back; you'll lose your balance. Accept the fact that you are and have to be human, and accept it with poise and grace. It's not really something you should have to forgive, but forgive yourself for needing to eat and sleep and breathe and take care of yourself. These things are more important than leaping tall buildings in a single bound...

Just looking out for the both of us,

Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twelve: The person you hate most

Dear ******,

As a general rule in life, I try not to hate people. I feel like it's bad for the soul. I try to see the good in people, to remember that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, etc.
I make an exception for you.
The last time I cursed someone out in these letters, I was being sarcastic. Let me make it very clear that I'm not in any way joking when I say you're a trifling piece of fucking shit, and if I never see you again, it's too fucking soon.
I hope you know your daughter hates you too. She finally saw through that mask you show them to see you for who you really are, and I wouldn't be surprised if she isn't ashamed to call herself your blood. I know I sure as hell would be.
You know, me and my mom could have had a good life. Sure we were kind of struggling when you met us, but we would have made it. We're strong like that. But no, you had to come sweet talk your way into her life, and go and get her fucking pregnant, and then offer to marry her like an idiot. And her, the single woman living with her sister with one kid and about to become the mother of another, what choice did she really have? I was too young to remember your wedding day, but I guess you don't remember either, because you certainly didn't honor those vows you made. 
You left her a week after your son was born. Your son that she named after you. What the fuck kind of human being does that? What kind of man can live with himself after doing that? Evidently you can, because you came crawling back to her with your tail between your legs, and now the mother of two of your children and not having a college degree, she [thought she] needed you to survive.
Then you yelled and screamed at us all the time, and beat us kids mercilessly with belts and physically fought with my mother every time the two of you got into an argument. God, it happened so often that when I was growing up, that's what I thought was normal. 
Then you left us again when I was 10. If I was ten, your children were four and five. But I mean, you were used to walking out on your family; this wasn't the first time you'd done it--or the first wife and kid you'd left. I'm sure you don't know that I was awake that whole night, listening to the two of you. You threw the fucking TV at her head. I still believed in God then, and I thanked Him for giving her the wisdom to duck. I'll never forget the sound of the glass shattering as it broke the window, or as the tv smashed to the ground outside. You slammed down the stairs and out the door, and once all was quiet I finally got up to go to the bathroom. She asked who it was and I said it was me, and I called out, "Goodnight Mommy. Goodnight Daddy," (I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE YOU MADE ME CALL YOU THAT. YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER. I HAVE A WONDERFUL FATHER WHO TRIED TO BE AS BIG A PART OF MY LIFE AS HE COULD, BUT YOU DIDN'T LIKE HAVING HIM AROUND, AND YOU DIDN'T LIKE SEEING THAT YOU'D NEVER MEAN AS MUCH TO ME AS HE DID, AND YOU MADE ME CALL HIM BY HIS FIRST NAME. FOR THAT, MORE THAN EVERYTHING ELSE, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU.) and she said "Daddy's gone, and he's never coming back."
I don't think she remembers that. The next morning as I was getting the kids ready for preschool I smelled something burning downstairs. I rushed down and found her curled up in that pink bathrobe on the kitchen floor, spatula in hand, sobbing. I'd never really seen her cry before. The eggs were on the stove, burning. To this day I still won't eat eggs, because they remind me of this moment. I told the kids to go back to sleep, and called the school using my best grown-up voice to excuse us for the day. And then I sat down Indian-style next to her and rubbed her back and let her cry. And she talked to me. She told me all her plans to get us out of this bad neighborhood and out of this whole mess and into a new life. And she scraped and saved and bought us a new house and finished school and got a teaching job and I was SO IMMENSELY PROUD OF HER. 
And then you did the second thing I will never forgive you for. You made me hate my mother. You made me hate her, because after all her big strong talk and everything she did, you came back from fucking that other woman and wanted another chance, and despite all the promises she'd made me that day on the kitchen floor, she took you back. I had been free and fatherless and almost happy, but then you were back and in control of my life all over again.
But I can forgive the stress. I can forgive the unrealistic expectations. I can almost forgive the welts and the bruises. If I reached deep down, I might even be able to forgive grounding me for 3 months over a pair of damn sneakers. What I cannot forgive is that you had the gall to leave again. To cheat on her again. And then to move to Georgia and promise your small children that you would come see them for Christmas or for their birthday, and to unfailingly call the night before to say something came up and you were sorry. I can't forgive having to hold them while they cried and promise them that you still loved them, when I couldn't even believe that you were capable of love.
I can't forgive the fact that you basically abandoned them for your new family and the wishes of your new wife.
I hate you. Not even for what you did to me, as fucked up as all of that was. Not even for what you did to my mother, though she deserved none of it. I hate you because I watch what you did to your children get worse and worse every day. I hate you because now my sister has to know what it is to hate her father. I hate you because you brought a brother into my life and took him away.
I hate you because I owe you this broken little life I lead. Without you, there would be no brother and sister. There would be no Mays Landing. We would have headed to Savannah with Deece if it weren't for you. There would be no everything I've ever known without you, and I hate you for that. I hate you because I owe you my very life.


Maya

PS I hate that this letter is making me cry, because you're not fucking worth my tears, goddammit.

If you could be any animal in the world, what would it be?

Probably a dolphin. They're pretty and fast and fun and spend all day in the water and they're supersmart AND they're the only other known mammal to use sex just for pleasure. XD

Ask me anything

I think I just discovered that I am attracted to BBQs (beautiful black queens). Help?

haha you don't need help anymore. ;]

Ask me anything

I noticed that you're considering not running for a position in Quad next year. Why not?

I'm trying to simplify my life. Fact #1: I can't always be superwoman. Fact #2: I have been in denial of Fact #1 for as long as I can remember. I love being in Quad, but honestly, I feel like being an officer of Quad was just like, something I did because Maya is an officer of every club she's a part of, not because I really really wanted to. And while I had a great time, it's time to start doing things for me, not just to do them. I need to stop spreading myself so thin in so many different directions.

Ask me anything

I am a Grecian myth buff, and your hair reminds me so of the legendary Medusa. How do you keep your snake-like locks so beautiful?

:D <-- this question makes me happy.

In truth I don't do very much to them. I condition in the shower every morning, I usually do some kind of light scalp-oiling, and then scrunch some kinky-curly curling custard in there to keep the coils tight. If I want a more untamed look, I lose the kccc. I don't comb it out as much as I should, and I never use shampoo because it's bad for you.

If I was going to do one more awesome thing for my hair, I'd buy a satin pillowcase.

Ask me anything

Why so many self-taken photos of yourself? You don't think that makes you come across as a little vain? Or maybe makes it look like you don't have a lot of friends so you take pictures of yourself?

Eh, I think that I like taking pictures. You can think whatever you want about it, I don't really give a fuck. I don't really like other people taking pictures of me; if you want something done right, do it yourself.

Ask me anything

Why do you wear ridiculously tall heels on a consistent basis? Are you insecure about your height? Or are you trying to balance yourself out?

I used to be insecure about my height when I was a kid, because I was so much taller than everybody else. Then I decided that I was just going to own that; that I would be the tall girl and that would be what was cool about me. And then like, freshman year of high school when all the boys suddenly grew like 6 inches, I started wearing heels to maintain the image of being tall.

Now I've gotten to the point where they're kind of annoying, though, and recently purchased two new pairs of flats in an effort to weed the "stilts" out of my wardrobe.

Ask me anything

maya, do you think your gift for poetry comes straight from our lord and savior jesus christ?

lmaooooo. no. That would require a belief in your lord and savior jesus christ. Which is never going to happen, sorry. But thanks for thinking my poems are a gift!

Ask me anything

Realistically, what do you see being your ultimate (or ideal) profession?

oh how I wish I knew. Right now I'm thinking I could work at some kind of Afam history/studies/culture nonprofit or museum. But the part of me that wants to write books and inspire young minds still entertains the idea of being a professor.

Ask me anything

Do you ever wish that you were somewhere else other than US and had a cool foreign heritage story? Which country would you pick?

Do you mean that I was FROM somewhere other than the US? Hmm...I wish I knew where my ancestors were from, so that I could have a better understanding of my roots, but I'm not sure I would actually want to be from somewhere else. This is all I know! I also kind of like being a bit of a mutt; as cool as being 100% something is, it's also pretty cool having a lot of different flavors mixed up inside of you.

Ask me anything

Are you attracted to people outside your race? Are you attracted to ALL other races? Is this answer for certain without any lingering doubts?

My ex is a white guy, and throughout my growing up I was attracted to a lot of white guys, because I never really had that many male friends of other races. My ex before him is black. I've been attracted to Hispanic guys, African guys, Indian guys and the occasional Asian guy. I can pretty confidently say that there's not some whole race that I find wholly unattractive.

Ask me anything

Why Quad?

Why not? It was the only club I ever really partied at, they have Soul Food night once a month, the whole staff is black and pretty cool, I had a lot of friends in it already, and the people I met at the zillion soph events they had were all pretty cool too. It's not gonna be crazy expensive and they even let me be a soph officer. And I kind of like having this core of people on campus and a place to go chill that's not my room. AND I've got a shared meal plan so I'm not losing late meal? Seems like an epic win to me. :]

Ask me anything

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Eleven: To a Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk to

Dear my father's mother,

I don't even know if I deserve to call myself your granddaughter, because I don't know even know your name. I want to say it's Ruth, but sometimes I think it's Rose. You'd passed before I was born, the victim of some terrible disease, if I remember correctly...I don't know if I get to call myself your granddaughter at all. 
But if you'll let me, I think I'd like to.
Daddy used to say you'd like me if you'd ever gotten a chance to know me. I don't know much about you, besides that you were the one who put literature so squarely into his life, causing him to put it so squarely into mine. I thank you for that. A few days ago I thanked Maya for inspiring me; I must thank you for inspiring him. I wonder if you were a writer too. I should ask him. We don't talk about you much.
Maybe this is weird, but sometimes I like to think we're kind of similar. I imagine that you're the one who would make me feel like less of an outsider in this family. I imagine we could have read aloud together over cups of tea. I know you shared my love of butterflies. He used to catch them for me and tell me about you. I also know that you had more patience than me, because a) you were able to live with him for 18 years (I'm only slightly joking), and b) you used to knit. He's jealous of my mom's new boyfriend, and is trying to one-up him by sending me an afghan you knitted before he can get me an NJPD blanket. 
He loves you. Probably more than he ever loved any other woman (except maybe me. That makes me feel bad.). I wanted you to know that. 
If there's something after this and you're somewhere watching over him, make sure he takes care of himself, okay? He's all of you I've got.

 Your granddaughter, if you'll have me,

Maya

And unlike yesterday...

...today I feel like this whole situation could have just been boy makes girl feel good. end of story. and that might not be the end of the world.

we'll see? I'm still gonna keep my promise.

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Ten (A Day Late): To Someone You Don't Talk to as Much as You'd Like to

Computer fiasco last night=I'm sorry this is late.

Dear ***,

(I can't believe this was) Four years ago, we exchanged handwritten letters--which, being so high school, we referred to solely as "notes"--every single day, and without ever agreeing to do this, we both kept every single one. 

Confession #1: I don't have all of them anymore. In a fit of trying not to be so ridiculously emotional and sentimental, I sorted them down to the most meaningful, the ones nearest and dearest to my heart, and tucked them into my high school memories box. And then, after kissing my fingers and placing them on the top of the shoebox, I picked the remaining ones up and threw them into the giant trashbag that most of my bedroom went into last summer. It was a horrendously painful experience, and I wrote a poem about it after...I felt like I owed it to you. I really and truly hope you no longer have all of mine, or I'm going to feel like an ass for the rest of my life.

Confession #2: I think that I have written 28 poems for/about/relating to you, the vast majority of which were written in the span of about a year and a half. I won't claim that they're all good or even that they should all survive into the future, but they're there. And I'm pretty confident that no one's ever going to beat that, so feel special. (Heh. Feel special. That's what I was always trying to get you to do, right?)

Back to this letter thing though: four years ago, that was our relationship. And now almost every day I sit on my computer and look at your name on my buddy list or my skype contacts and I want to click it and say hi to you. I really do. But I never know what would come after hi, how've you been? And the one thing I hate more than not talking to someone is trying and failing to talk to them...it would make me think about all the things in our friendship that have died since those days. And that would be sad.

It's weird though because I feel like on the RARE occasion that we're both free at the same time and can hang out, then things aren't as weird as I expect them to be. We can sometimes fall back into this semblance of how it used to be, especially if we're in a larger group, and it makes me really happy. 

So I guess the point of this letter was to say hey, I kind of miss you. One of these days I'm gonna say hey, and I hope we have something cool to talk about, because you're kind of a cool person. (Except last summer you kind of started to scare me. I hope that anti-you phase is over, pleaseandthankyou.) I really hope we get to hang out once I get home, because right now you're like, an example of how growing up so often means growing apart, and that makes me saddddd. So let's stop that, k?

<3 (Heh, you're the one who introduced me to <3),

My

PS--Hah, it's funny that I was worried about writing this on here because you follow me, but then I remembered that I used to hand you my diary every day. Oh life.

Meh.

I spend so much time sitting around wondering which one of us is the idiot. The answer usually varies depending on my mood. I wish I could just STOP thinking about him and the fact that he has yet to return my message when he has obviously been on facebook and talked to other people. (Yeah because this is obviously stronger evidence than, like, all of our interactions from the last year. Getting caught up in dumb shit like this = why I think it's me that's the stupid one.) It's like, okay, I know I'm crazy, but am I crazy for thinking there could be something here, or is it so obviously palpably here that I'm crazy for doubting it?
There is a thin line between reality and idealization, and I'm flirting with it (since I can't flirt with him.) Too bad that's probably going to be the death of this. When one leaves my overzealous mind with memories to pick-and-choose from, and my overactive imagination with endless possibilities to explore, bad things tend to happen.
But I don't want something bad to happen. So I need a DISTRACTION. Something to make me stop focusing so much on him and this and my craziness. I just want to let this GO until September. But how??

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Nine: Someone You Wish You Could Meet

Dear Maya Angelou,

I promise I don't just want to meet you because I was named after you. That's a big part of what got me interested in you as a child, but over the years I've become incredibly drawn and attached to your work. As cheesy and stalker-ish as this sounds, I feel like we're connected somehow. Being someone's namesake should be some sort of cosmic connection, right? When I'm going through a dark time, I turn to India.Arie when I want music, and I turn to you when I want poetry. Sometimes the woman I imagine the speaker of your poems to be is myself, reminding me of my glory. Sometimes she's the self I imagine I will one day be, telling me that I'll get through this to a brighter day. Sometimes she's my mother or my grandmother or a woman from the topmost branches of my family tree, telling me that she has been there too. Your words, they comfort me, and inspire me to reach higher and walk taller. You remind me why I do all that I do. 
Sometimes I ask myself if I poet because of you. I haven't been able to come up with an answer to that question yet, but it goes without question that you were enough of an influence on my childhood that some part of my interest in wordsmith-ship must have been inspired by your work.

One of the memories my father always smiles back on is of a day we were in the Pleasantville public library. If we were in Pleasantville, I was in the fourth grade. I was checking out a biography of you, and most likely a volume or two of your work, along with whatever else I was currently reading, and the librarian who was helping me asked if I was doing a school project. I must have given her a strange look, because she elaborated, "You're checking out all these books on Maya Angelou." I cocked my head to the side and said, "No, I just like her," and grabbed my books and walked out. My dad says she stared at us until we pulled out of the parking lot, and he likes to reminisce about this as being one of the things that marked me as "different."

 It's one of my absolute greatest dreams in life that you will come to Princeton before I graduate. I will quite literally kick, bite, and claw my way to a ticket to see you. Going back to cheesy and stalker-ish, it would genuinely be an honor to be graced with your very presence.

Thank you,

Maya 

Additional Weirdness

I have also realized that when I spend these 5 weeks at home once I leave Chicago (*tear*), it will most likely be the longest consecutive amount of time I spend in ML and/or with my mom and siblings for the rest of my life. 

That's actually really scary and makes me feel superold. It also makes me want to have awesome adventures with my friends while I'm home, because omg we're getting old and not going to have much time left together to do these things. D:!

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Eight: The Last Person You Made a Promise to

Dear me during the week of September 19-25, 2010. 

KEEP IT! Do not, I repeat, do NOT be a scared little wimp and back down. Do NOT give him it more time. It's been too damn long already, and we both know we're not a patient person. You made a promise to yourself, and you. will. keep. it. Do you understand me?

Kgood,

Me on July 25, 2010

Not-So-Strong Black Women?

Why Black Women Need a Better PR Campaign 

"But who doesn't want to be strong? Who doesn't want to be endlessly dependable and independent? Me, that's who! I want to be more. Heck, I want to be less."

I'm not saying I want to be weak, but this resonates pretty deeply with me. I want to not feel like being vulnerable is a crime punishable by death or, worse, disappointment. I like being dependable, and I like being independent, but some days I just want to lay in bed and cuddle and flake out on the world. But hell, when even the CEO of my company jokingly calls me Maya-Strong-like-Ox, what's a girl to do but slap on a fake smile and soldier on?

What good is a lion...

if he spends his whole life in a cage? How can he be brave? Does he even know he's supposed to be a king?

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Seven: Your Ex

Dear *,

I've been trying to give you not-so-subtle hints about what I want our current/future relationship to be, but you haven't seemed to be getting them, so I'm just gonna be straight up with you for a minute:

I. don't. want. to. be. friends. There, I said it. I've been trying really hard to figure out how to let you know that I am always going to make up some excuse not to hang out with you when you call, or that better yet, I don't want you to call me. And that probably makes me a fucking bitch, and I'm sorry for that, but it's how I feel.
And don't get me wrong, it's not because I'm still hurting from our relationship or because I'm still in love with you (ha!) or because I'm jealous that you've had like 3 girlfriends since we broke up and until about 2 months ago you were still the only boy I'd ever kissed. It's not because of any of these things.
Sigh, I suppose I should stop pussy-footing around this. There is no nice way to say this. It's because...I really just don't like you. Not even as a person. I look back on our little fling-in-disguise now and can't understand wtf I was thinking, besides that you wanted me and I wanted to be wanted. And that's not to say that I didn't develop real feelings for you as time went on, because trust me, our break-up hurt way more than I was expecting it to, but now...that is gone, and as rude as this is, I'd really appreciate it if you were gone too. I still don't regret it, but I kind of feel like we were as close to a mistake as it is possible to be without regret, and I'm really surprised my mother and all of my friends did not just slap me repeatedly until I woke up and realized wtf I was doing.
You were the first person in a long time to make me feel beautiful or sexy or like someone wanted me around. I needed that then, probably more than I've ever needed a lot of things. And you giving me that made me overlook...absolutely everything else? Now that you don't fit into that role anymore, I really...don't know how you can fit into my life. 
There was once a hole in my life that I contorted you to fit into. That hole is now gone. There's really nothing more I can do with you. In my new-and-improved life, that hole never existed. That really means you can't be hanging around anymore either.
I'm sorry. We can't be friends. There's nothing I even like about you. Well, maybe one or two things, but hey this isn't Breakfast at Tiffany's and that's not gonna cut it. I'm happy for you and the newest girl; from talking with you, things seem to be different with her, and I hope things work out for you. (While I'm being totally honest, I'm also pretty happy that you've downgraded, while I'm in the process of making a serious upgrade.) As per our last conversation, you seem to be making a general happiness upgrade though, and I am really glad for you about that. And I wasn't kidding when I said I was proud of you for going to school, even if it is in drama or whatever; it's a step I never thought I'd see you make.
Thank you for being what I needed when I needed it, but I'ma need you to stop hovering around now...


Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Six: A Stranger

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30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Five: Your Dreams

Dear Dreams,

You come in so many forms. I suppose I'll address them all. Or at least the most important few:

Actual dreams I dream at night: I wish I could remember you more often. I also wish that when I do remember you, you weren't so abstract and crazy. You're always changing places or times or both in the blink of an eye, and your storylines are the most ridiculous things ever. Please make some semblance of sense. Kthnx. I also really wish I could see people's faces in you. I know I never have been able to, and can just weirdly tell who is who, but it would be nice. There are some people whose faces I really miss. Additionally, you often put me in situations with people whom I don't recognize but who are not strangers to me in you; I am usually totally comfortable with these people. WHO ARE THEY?! Will I ever get to meet them? Will I know it when I do? Have I already met them in previous lives? Are they the ghosts of awesome people? I would really like an explanation of this. 


Oh dreams of the hopes-and-dreams variety: I really wish you kind of like, existed more concretely. I'm getting to the point in life where I'm beginning to feel like my total lack of certainty about what I want my future to look like should start to bother me. Dreams of the future, you are so vague and blurry and hazy and totally undefined. I dream of being happy, having enough money to donate to Pton every year and maybe take a nice vacation every once in a while, liking what I do, etc. I dream of having wicked awesome hair that people adore. I dream of loving and being loved. I dream of being at peace with myself. What does that translate into in the real world? What do I want to do with myself post grad school? Where do I want to live? Do I want to get married? What is this crazy new feeling like I could have kids someday? I would like for you to take on some real weight and tangibility in the near future. Kthnx.

Oh dreams my heart dreams: Very few things in life make me both so happy, so frustrated, and so worried. I guess that means you should feel special. You are so sappy I just want to gag all the time, but the part of me that is inspired by my best friend thinks it's cute. You make me feel like Meg from Hercules. I feel like you're leading me down a path that's scary because I can't see the end, but I'm still fairly willing to follow you. Sometimes I look around and freak out and turn and start to run away, but you and your trusty lasso reel me back in before I get very far every time. Must be something you picked up in Kansas, XP

K, that seems like enough dreams to address for now. Can't think of any other major categories. 


TTFN, ta-ta for now!


Maya<3

So weird.

I realized some weird things this week.

1. This week marks exactly two years since I've been in a relationship. That doesn't bother me as much as I'd once imagined it would. 

2. My skinny-white-girl-from-Michigan roommate owns and regularly uses a flat iron, and I don't. Of course, she calls it a "hair straightener" though. XD

3. If I was my mom, I'd be three months pregnant with me right now. How freaky is that?! :O 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Four: Your Sibling

Dear Bryan,

This is probably cheating because technically we're not officially related anymore, but you will always be my brother to me. (Besides, thinking about you as this random little boy I used to take baths with is just sketch.)
And this is probably pretty sketch too, but I've been searching for you. Either you're supremely good at making your Facebook private, or you don't have one. I check periodically in hopes that you suddenly appear, but it's pretty hard because I don't know if you still live where you lived when we were kids, or where (if?) you go to school. 
We miss you a lot. Me and my mom especially, but the kids too. If I remember correctly, it was your mom that always tried to keep you from being too close to us, but now that we're both 20 and she's not really standing in your way anymore, I want you to know that wherever you are, you still have family in South Jersey, if you'll have us. We don't even have to do a big reunion if that would be weird after all these years, but every year on your birthday I wish I could call you. I would like to actually be able to someday.
The twizzler picture is still framed on the bookshelf in our living room. So is the picture we took in Central Park that year at Christmas. And I tear up a little bit every time I see the picture from Christmas when we were four playing with those boxing robot things that when you lose the head shoots up. I don't remember what they're called, but I'm sure you remember what I'm talking about.
It's really unfair that you can have been such a huge part of my childhood and now I have no idea where you are or what you're up to or what happened to you. I'm in Chicago right now; if by some twist of fate you're here too, and we walked passed each other on the busy streets downtown, would we even recognize each other? Has it been that long?
Regardless of marriages, divorces, and other strange familial happenings, you will never stop being important to me, or loved by me, and I will never stop trying to find you.


Love,


Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Three: Your Parents

Dear Mom and Dad,

...This is weird. The whole, thinking about the two of you as a unit thing. I've never really had much occasion to do that before. I'm not sure how much I like it.
I guess that's kind of weird too. I'm sure I did when I was younger, but I can't even remember wanting us to live together as one big happy family. To this day I can't understand how you two were ever together, or how I even exist. I mean, I have exactly 3 photographs of the three of us together in the last 20 years. Like, come on. 
My relationship with each of you has its highs and its lows, and each has its own strong points and its own ISSUES, but I can honestly say that both seem to be improving baby-step by baby-step as time goes on. I hope that pretty soon we'll be able to leave most of the traditional parent-child stuff behind and both consistently behave like adults.
I'm sorry that I sometimes go too long without calling either of you. I don't mean to worry you; life just gets busy sometimes. I'm not sure if you guys know this, but I usually try to call both of you on the same day, so it doesn't seem like I'm favoring one of you over the other. Is that silly?
Daddy, I'm sorry I don't let you ask questions. I'm working on being more forthcoming with you.
Mommy, I'm glad you're finally letting me be independent, but a) I wish you wouldn't worry so much, and b) sometimes I wish you asked more questions. I don't know if I'd answer them, but as much as a rag on Daddy, it's nice to be asked.
Haha, I guess the weirdest thing about our messed-up little family is that my relationships with the two of you are almost mirror images of each other. I guess in a perfect world I'd like to see our relationships come back to the middle a little, but I think that's going to take a lot of growth on all of our parts, so we'll see.
I love you both.

<3,


Maya


PS--Don't go anywhere, okay? I may not be a kid anymore, but that doesn't mean I won't need help, guidance, and an older-wiser-someone-to-lean-on. <3

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Two: Your Crush

Dear *******,

First off, I think the word "crush" is frilly and silly and belongs in a 12-year-old's vocabulary, and I refuse to use it again for the rest of this letter.
Secondly, I'm going to try my hardest to keep this as un-sappy as possible.
Hey there. I miss talking with you. As much as I joke about them, I really like our random philosophical conversations, and I really do love the way you say the most ordinary things in the most elegant manner, and you make me laugh. That's a plus. And I wish I could say I miss hanging out with you, but I almost feel like we don't spend enough face-to-face time for me to really say that. Let's work on that, okay?
Shutting my dreaming little heart up for a minute, I feel like we've had some really great times together in the past, and I feel like I've both sent and received a few little hints. This culminated in a fairly drunken particularly liberated night at the end of the year, which we've since talked around but not really about. I was worried for a while that it could lurk like an elephant in the room and kind of ruin even basic friendship things, but we seem to be pretty okay, which makes me smile. Our conversations range from politics to horseshoe crabs to academic mindsets and nearly everything in between, the exclusion being us.
So in this little letter I guess I want to tell you: Hey you. Yes, you, stop looking around like I'm talking to someone else; it's just you and me here. I, uhm, I kind of like you. And maybe I'm delusional, in which case feel free to stop me, but I think you maybe kind of like me too. And if I'm right then I want to stop talking around things and face this, because I think maybe we could have something here. I think you're worth a real shot, and that's more than I've been willing to give a guy in a long time.

:),

Maya

PS--I'd really appreciate it if you refrained from leaving the country for extended periods of time so I wouldn't have to miss our conversations so much. Kthnx