We all have letters we’d like to send, but know that we can’t. A letter to someone we no longer have a relationship with, a letter to a family member or friend who has died, a letter to reclaim our power or our voice from an abuser.
Letters where actual contact is just not possible.
Do you have a letter you can’t send?
Why not send it to The Band?
My sister called you “The Blond to End All Blonds.” There was a good reason for this. After you had been in my life, I had no interest in any other blonds until I met my husband.
I kept you on a pedestal. You were my ideal. No one could compare to you.
8th grade was a really hard year for me. I don’t know why that group of girls targeted me, but the bullying was rough. They made fun of my hair, my clothes, made me feel worthless. My mom and my sister were very supportive during that time, like they always were, but it wasn’t enough to keep my spirits up.
Then came the basketball game where I met you. I only sat next to you that night so I could have a chance to talk to the other saxophone player sitting on the other side of you. Justin was really popular with the girls, and I could never find a moment when he wasn’t talking to some girl. I don’t know why I was so brave that day. I wasn’t normally like that. I figured I could strike up a conversation with the cute blond sax player while waiting for a chance to talk to Justin.
You seemed startled, but pleased when I sat down and started talking to you. I still remember what you were wearing that day: blue jeans and an olive green sweatshirt with a bird on it, a parrot, I think. The longer we talked, the more Justin disappeared from my mind.
From then on, the weekends were what got me through the difficult weeks. My sister was always happy to let me hang out with her and her friends. I was at all of the high school football games, basketball games, and concerts – anywhere the band members would be. I would have gone with her anyway, but you were an extra incentive.
It was very flattering to have an Older Man pay attention to me. You were only two years older than me, but because you were in high school, and I was in junior high, that was a really big deal. You were always so sweet and so kind to me.
I’d never seen anyone look good in those horrible marching band uniforms, but you did. I will never forget the night of that one football game. I stood there holding a heavy quilt because it was supposed to be very cold that night. As I listened to the band teacher gruffly instructing everyone what he expected of them, I looked over at you. You grinned at me.
My heart stopped.
That was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen, and it was just for me!
You never came right out and said that you liked me back, but your actions did. I felt like the only thing keeping you from pursuing more of a relationship was the fact that I was only in junior high.
I was sitting behind you at a football game one afternoon, talking to one of my sister’s friends about the party we were all going to that night. I made a point of mentioning whose house we would be going to, for your benefit.
Little did you know you were actually going to show up!
A car pulled up in front of the house that night. I heard one of the seniors say that it looked like your sister’s car. When I got outside to see what was going on, I saw a pack of boys standing around the car. They all looked too afraid to come closer with all those big senior boys in the house. I yelled for you by name. The other boys laughed and said you weren’t there, but when some of the bigger guys came outside, and everyone jumped back in the car, I saw you.
I got up the nerve to call you the next day. Our conversation was a little weird and awkward, but you were sweet. You admitted to being with the boys in the car the night before, but wouldn’t say anything else about it.
Was I wrong to believe you were there for me?
But then came the horrible news that you were moving. I was heartbroken. After you left, I used my school connections to find out what school you had transferred to in Texas. I wrote you a letter, and mailed it, care of your new school. In it, I jokingly threatened to write to you constantly until you answered me. I regretted it as soon as it was in the mail. It sounded creepy. I was sure you would think I was insane when you read it. I never wrote again, but I missed you all the time, and always wondered what might have happened if you hadn’t moved away.
A couple of years passed, and I took a trip to Washington to visit a friend. On the way, I had a long layover in Utah. My sister was going to school there, and we took the time between my flights to go shopping. We drove to the mall and pulled into the parking garage.
As we looked for a parking place, I noticed a familiar face. I asked my sister if she thought that looked like your sister. My heart stopped again when I realized the guy walking behind her looked just like YOU. I begged for my sister to stop the car, but she was afraid she would lose me if we didn’t stay together. She rolled the window, yelled your name, and YOU TURNED AROUND!
As soon as we could find a parking space, I was on the hunt for you, but I never found you. I cried through much of the flight to Washington, devastated that I might have just missed my chance to connect with you again.
You and I are friends on Facebook now. I’ve apologized about basically stalking you back then. I’ve thanked you for making me feel good about myself during that tough year. I enjoy seeing pictures of your family, your wife and pretty little girls. You look so happy, and I’m glad.
I’ve tried to ask you more than once if that really was you in Utah that day, but you won’t tell me. I wish you would. We all have unanswered questions that we wish someone could answer. You have the ability to ease my curiosity. It’s an important question to me because seeing you that day opened the doors in my heart to allow me to fall in love for the first time.
Thank you for being kind to me at a time when I really needed it.