From: That quiet girl, 17, Massachusetts
To: You, 17, Massachusetts

Please understand what I am about to say.

It breaks my heart.

I love you. I love you. I. love. you.

I never believed in love at first sight. I was a jaded teenager wrapped up in cigarettes and art and maintaining my high GPA. You have changed me in ways I thought I could not be changed, and it kills me that you don’t care. I would follow you to the ends of the earth, I would kneel at your knees and weep at the hardships you’ve had to bear throughout your short life, pain that I could never experience in a million years; but you don’t seem to care. I am anguished, I am tortured in love. We see each other four times a week, brushing by in our summer jobs, content to playful banter and quiet, fleeting conversation. What you dont see is that every time you walk by, bumping your hip against mine, is that I watch you walk away. I can see the scars across your skinny arms and legs, I can trace that place on your body where you’ve carved a message to the world. I allow myself to dream, for those precious five seconds, that you will turn around and meet my eyes.

You never do.

You talk to me daily, unaware that my answers have been carefully crafted over late, sleepless nights. Every question you might ask I’ve already thought of. Answered wittily. Became a person much cleverer and suave and worldly than I am, because I want to impress you. To be like you.

But the funny thing is, you’re the one person I can completely be myself with.

But you are not perfect. You are angry, you are fucked up beyond belief. But I’m here. I want to care for you. I want to hold you when you are weary, I want to cry when you are sad. I want those other girls in your life to fade into the background and become part of the crowd, and I want to stand out because to you, I want to believe, I am perfect. I am not too short or too round and plainfaced and short sighted with unmanageable hair. I am simply perfect.

And in exactly 22 days from the time of this note, if you still haven’t noticed me, then I’ll do it. On the last day in the picturesque little summer sea town where we met, I’ll kiss you by the big old maple where we first talked this year, when I got my favorite shirt dirty helping you do a job I wasn’t even on duty for. Maybe you’ll laugh at me, so bold and forthcoming where I am normally reserved. But maybe, just maybe, you will kiss me back. And you will say the words I’ve longed to hear since I used to watch you shuffle fast food back and forth many summers before:

I love you.
because I love you, too.

From: Citizens of Malaysia, – , Malaysia
Name: Malaysia, 50, Malaysia

Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!

Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!

Merdeka!!

Happy 50th Birthday, Malaysia!

From: People in the Sun, Baltimore, USA
Ten years ago today we met. I already wrote about that day here, but ended that post with my date taking a cab back home.

I’ll never forget, the next day, seeing Honey sitting outside the tube station waiting for me (even though I was early). We sat outside a bar, across the street from the Dublin Castle and then we went to see Swingers. That’s our movie. We continued walking in Camden for a while and I asked her if she wanted to come over and watch TV. I swear that’s what I meant, too. I just figured she was fun and it would be fun to watch King of the Hill with her.

We then listened to music and didn’t talk much. Then “Broken Heart” started playing and Honey started to cry. And I said, “I’m going to regret this,” and I kissed her.

I’ve tried to analyze this moment for the last ten years, and historians will continue my unfinished work, but I’m still not sure why I said that or what made me kiss her, just like she’s not sure why she started to cry.

Did my kiss have anything to do with subconscious male chauvinism? Did I think she wanted me to kiss her because of some kind of male fantasy of a weak female saved by her superhero man? Did her tears make me feel stronger? Was my kiss meant to save my princess? That bastard Jung made me think about that. I read Man and his Symbols and realized maybe I didn’t kiss her because I was a sensitive man but because I was an arrogant pig like the rest of them.

But I can leave all of that for the historians. Whether she cried because the idea of going back alone to America was breaking her heart or because on King of the Hill Bobby was forced to smoke an entire carton of cigarettes doesn’t matter today. And whether I kissed her because I wanted to save her or because I wanted her to save me is also meaningless, after all. Because now, ten years later, the love of my life is smarter, funnier, and more beautiful than ever, and I’ve had the best ten years of my life, and our best days together are yet to come.

And she’s pregnant, too, which is really cool. And more than likely, I’m the father.

People in the Sun

From: Sheldon, 15, MI
To: Nicole, 20, MI

Hello Dien,
Why does it seem to be that I find the words to say long after we’ve departed? I don’t understand it. When you gave me that hug today, all I wanted was for you to never let go…but I didn’t realize it until I was home, sitting at this computer desk yet again.
Why do I find myself writing you letters everywhere? Why am I constantly stealing things from places to bring to you..when I know that you’ll never actually get them?
You know, I have a box of things for you. And about you. It’s been in my room since February. I told you about it once, but you didn’t seem to get the picture, I don’t think. You asked me about it later, and I told you it didn’t mean anything…I fell a bit stupid for it…
I don’t even know what to say about us anymore. It’s so hard for me to just be friends with you, when I want so much more. I know I always will. And yeah, you’re 20, but I really and honestly don’t care. I never have. Anyone who has a problem with it can choke themselves with a spork.
Seeing you is hard, but not seeing you is harder. And now you’re moving tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. Why didn’t you tell me the time was creeping up so fast? It hurts so bad, and I don’t think you can even fathom the magnitude of pain…
I see these love letters getting shorter, and I see the love of my life slowly slipping away. I see my family slowly drifting away from me, and I see the hate and discriminating I will always get…

Please stay happy, and keep in touch.

Sheldon

From: Stephan Rinke, 23 years, Würzburg, Germany
To: Shiloe Mokay, 21 years, Huntingdon, PA, USA

Do you remember how we met? Of course you do. It would have been certainly easier to meet while we were studying at the same college, but by chance – or maybe by destiny – we were supposed to meet on a very different location. It almost sounds like a fairy tale.

I don’t know what I expected when I went to Paris for New Years to visit my friends. Sure – the city of love. What did I care? I just wanted to have some fun. But when the year changed and I kissed you while I was holding you in my arms I felt like the happiest person alive. It wasn’t the place, it wasn’t the time – it was simply you.

You were hesitant to come to Paris to visit people you barrely knew. If you would not have come – how would my life be today? When you think that you have found the love of your life how can you possibly imagine not being with her?

When you entered the room I was stunned. From then on all I wanted to do was being close to you. All these silly things you say when you are nervous and don’t know what to talk about… I was lucky that you liked me instantly too. When we went to that club and I put my arm around you I already knew it will work and it will be different than with other girls. The three days that we spent together changed something enterily in my life.

How would I know what you really felt for me?

How can you miss somebody that much when you have only known her for three days? I didn’t know.

All I knew was that I had to see you again because you had touched my heart like nobody else before. Therefore I just got my car, drove seven hourse and came to visit you without announcing it three weeks later. I will never forget the expression on your face when I entered the room and surprised you… Oh, I was a mess. Shaking and nervously standing there and not knowing how you would react. But when you came to me in tears and kissed me I knew it was worth it… You know how it went from then.

I love you more than ever and I do not doubt that this long distance thing will work. The two month that you spent with me at my appartment was the happiest time of my life.

I love you Shiloe, and I hope this thing makes you happy because that is how you make me feel and I would be glad if I could give a tiny thing back.

Your love,
Stephan

From: Chloe Mims, 13, Jacksonville, FL
To: Everyone, Who’s Family Member Over Seas

For Our Lovers over Seas,

Stop playing reality, because your no good at it.
Stop popping up in my mind when I’m trying to live.
Stop breathing around me, It only makes it worse.
Stop playing nice.
Stop telling me I beautiful.
Stop invading my nightmares and turning them into dreams.
Stop holding my hand in the popcorn that we get at the movies.
Stop making me laugh when you make a joke.
Stop being perfect.
Stop telling me you love me.
Stop telling me I’m the only one.
Stop holding me when I’m sad.
Stop liking all the movies I like.
Stop kissing me, when I want you to.
Stop our Love.
Because your leaving.
Because you might not come back.
Because If you die.
I die.
And if we die, who will be here to miss you.