Bitter Sweet

Letter to Grayson - Wanderer

Dedicated to BakedPotato because she is a totes fab potato who discourages my attraction to Max from The Wanted??? Anyway, thank you for the surprise you wrote me - it was perfect.

Lol I've been updating for about three days straight in a row, I'm so proud of myself.

~

"All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien

Hey Grayson,

It's been two weeks since I've written to you. And frankly, nothing much has changed over that that chunk of time.

Though I must say, it's nice to have you in my class. I always look forward to the time everyday when I share an aimless conversation with you. You - your dirty-blond hair (that's in desperate need of a cut), your clear blue eyes, your lazy smile, and your fingers that were ever-fiddling with a Rubik's cube.

Why can't life be aimless? Why does it have to bear that furious drive to it that makes us grow up, get a job, get married, have kids, watch them grow up, watch them get married, retire, become grandparents, then die so fast? Why does it pass in such a quick wink of an eye?

What is the meaning of life, then? "Make the most out of your life", "You can make a difference", "Be the change you want to see happening in the world". That strikes irony, because we humans continue have the stereotypical life, stereotypical job, stereotypical love of your life and push the quest of "changing the world" into the hands of the "future generation" and then pray to God that they don't mess up. And they - we, I mean - almost never fail to mess up.

I guess then it's not just me who's afraid, it's everybody. We are too afraid to take risks other than investing in questionable industries and buying stocks. We are too afraid to get a job that provides us happiness because it's a common fact known that happiness cannot always be converted into the two things our world lives on - money and materialism. We aren't brave enough to accept homosexuality nor bisexuality into our society, either, since they were simply different; and we are afraid of difference.

Oh, Grayson, there are so few brave people in this world. They shine like diamonds in this inky-black sky that defines people like me.

Shoot, I spilled tea on this letter. (I've always liked green tea - it calms my raging mind.) Now there's an ugly greenish-brown blotch on what was formerly your name. And it just started to rain hard. Maybe it's a sign that I should stop writing.

But before I go, I'd like to thank you for making my days better. You make me feel special (but then again, you make everyone feel special) even though I'm not those beautiful girls you hang out with - even though I am not as captivating as McKenna, nor as kind-hearted has Sarah Verandis. You make me feel like being the "Other Sarah" is actually not that bad.

More so, thank you for making my life feel like it were on a pause whenever we talk - even if the timeless landscape we wander through is nowhere but a crowded hallway.

As wrong as it sounds, thank you for making me feel like an aimless wanderer.

Lots of love,

Sarah.