Miles Apart: Writing the First of Hopefully Many Letters
A surprise for him, while untangling a few of my thoughts along the way.
Miles Apart: Writing the First of Hopefully Many Letters
11/26/2024
Charlie,
“Surprise, surprise, surprise!” said in my best Gomer Pyle voice.
Are you surprised to see a letter from me? Just wait until you get to surprise number two! Hope you're following directions! Did you like the creative touch I added with the use of purple crayons on my labeling for each page? I’m artistic like that, eh?! lol Surprise one, read first. Surprise two, read last. Look at me, being all organized!
Well, I’m surrounded here by your presence as I write my first of hopefully many letters to you. I’m sitting in my favorite chair, listening to some of our favorite songs. Your scent lingers from the candle you gave me, the one that smells like your cologne. It’s as if you’re here, just out of reach, and I can almost hear your voice teasing me about my cold feet.
That big, beautiful jade crystal you brought back from Asia for me hangs beside the photo of your dogs, still watching over me, even though we’re miles apart. I keep glancing at my phone, waiting. You always seem to know when I’m thinking about you.
Writing is therapeutic for me, my way of untangling what’s going on inside. I’ve always been better at putting thoughts on paper rather than finding the right words face-to-face. It’s easier this way, safer, maybe.
Charlie, you are great at expressing yourself without having to put pen to paper and I don’t expect you to write back. This is just my way of letting pieces of us exist beyond the walls of my mind. Like your drawings, the ones you’ve shown me. I imagine they were therapeutic for you to create. Little fragments of who we are, finding their place outside ourselves.
Surprise Number Two
Speaking of drawing, I’ve sketched way too many details of a dream home over the years. Gathering from all the places I’ve lived and seen. I think I’ve finally nailed our “what if” design, though.
I’ve enclosed my rough sketch that I’ll probably change a million times before you even get it. You’re probably laughing a little on the inside with how horrible my drawing is compared to how well you draw.
But hear me out: I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About what it would take to create a space that’s ours but still lets us breathe. It’s all there. Don’t laugh too hard when you see it. Or do. Either way, tell me what you think. I’ll leave the artwork up to you, now that you have my ideas to which you can draw upon.
Two houses, side by side. Close enough to steal coffee off each other’s porch. A shared fence, a couple of dogs tearing through the yard. You’d be leaning against the gate, cigarette in hand, and I’d toss some sarcastic remark your way. But secretly? I’d just be glad to see you there. Those moments, that’s what I miss most. When the world felt small and like it only belonged to us.
I know I’m a dreamer with my head in the clouds WAY too often and maybe this is an impossible dream, but I just can’t stop imagining it. A space that’s ours, where life feels simple again. Maybe I’m holding onto something that only exists in my dreams. But hey, a girl can dream.
Miles Apart: Untangling Thoughts Through Interpretive Song
Of course a song comes to my mind. Do you remember that 1997 Jewel song, Foolish Games? This particular line to this song:
You're always brilliant... in the morning
Smoking your cigarettes
And talking... over coffee.
I hope you’re picturing me strumming my badass air guitar as I sing this to you right now, Charlie.
I don’t even know if you ever liked Jewel, but still, that line fits us, doesn’t it?!
I think I’m going to create a playlist for these letters, but it’ll never top yours!
I still remember the day you pulled up one of your playlists as we drove through the countryside searching for that cute little apple cider store. The way the sunlight touched the fall leaves creating a sparkly wave of magic on the hillside. You were behind the wheel, the windows down, and crisp autumn air swirling around us. We didn’t even say anything. We just listened, and it felt like the world had paused just for us.
Wrapping It Up
I know I’m rambling, but writing to you feels like stitching a seam back into my soul. With every word, it’s like I’m piecing together something I didn’t realize was unraveling. This feels like it’s as much for me as it is for you.
I keep wondering, is this all we’ll ever have? A few texts, the occasional call, a letter here and there, and a couple of yearly visits? And then there are those midnight thoughts, the ones that tug at my heart when I least expect them. The ones that remind me of everything we had before I had to leave it all behind.
-OR-
Are we creating something even better, deeper, more meaningful by making lemonade out of lemons as they say?
Wouldn’t it be something if we somehow found our way back? Back to our unique weirdness and all the "forbidden" things we got into. OMG Charlie, I miss that! I miss the people we met while we experimented with different things to do together. The ease of being surrounded by those who didn’t need us to explain. It was like my mask was removed and I was actually capable of being myself around others. Oh what fun shenanigans we got into!
I wonder if you hold these memories as tightly as I do? Do they still matter to you? Or are they fading into something smaller, quieter, easier to forget?
Anyway. Let me know if these letters are something you’d want to keep reading or if you’d rather we stick to calls and texts for now. Either way, I hope this little surprise brought a smile to your face today.
Xo, Ana
P.S. Can’t wait to hear how your date went!
The Miles Apart Series is based on Ana’s desire to bring back the excitement of handwritten letters. Start with this short introduction post to learn more.
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