Let the Wind Blow

Dear Amber Michelle:

               I have started this letter time and time again and it has always ended up the same way: destroyed. Either in the recycle bin or an actual recycle bin, but it would never actually make it further than that. Five years have passed since we met and a lot of things have happened in those years and, while I know exactly what happened, you don't really know how things looked from my point of view. You were always the most open of the two so and I never really shared my feelings, probably the reason why this letter has been ripped apart time and time again. But now, I think it's finally time for you to know my version of the story.

               I went to study engineering abroad. I hated the college closer to my house and I needed to prove to myself that I could survive on my own, so I decided to go out for what would prove to be five interesting years. Being a small town kinda guy, I wasn't practicularly afraid of living in the city just cause it was a city. I was afraid of living there cause of the people who live in the city. Let's face it, city folk and country folk rarely get along. My experiences haven't proved me wrong yet and, while I'm a little bit city now, I knew things would go wrong the minute I enrolled in that pre-calculus class.

               I felt like I was way in over my head. I have always been a whiz at math, something that was evidenced since achieving a perfect score on my SATs, but the fact that it was college-level pre-calculus was daunting. Anyways, I stayed in the class cause there was a quiet person sitting in the back of that classroom. She appeared to be feeling the same things I felt: confusing mixed with excitement; all of which stemmed from the same reason. We were guppies in the ocean that was college life. The more I stared at my fellow guppy, the more I seemed to be drawn to her.

               Her waist-long auburn hair was tied up in a long braid, which she had brought up to rest on her well developed bosom. Green eyes that shone brightly against the pale face, which was adorned with carefully positioned freckles. A warm yet cocky grin that seemed to say "watch out world, here I am!" and a figure reminiscent of a Brazilian goddess: petite upper body with shapely hips and legs that would make any Miss Universe candidate green with envy. That is what I saw in you, even though you always claimed that I exaggerated.

               By, what I would like to call fate, we were paired together for a project. It occurred to us later on that the only reason we had been called to work together was because of the last names, but I will always credit fate for that day. We started chatting in the classroom about how to do the project and somehow ended up talking about our lives and we expected from it. I found out that you were actually studying computer engineering, which was a miracle in itself since it is a field mostly populated my men. I had met a hot, future computer engineer with dreams of working for NASA and I was incredibly happy at that point.

               Time passed and, after acing that project, we kept on getting together and talking even though we had nothing academically to gain from it. We simply hit it off and it was marvelous. We would always meet in Starbucks and share a bagel with cream cheese or go to McDonalds and eat in your car; sharing everything from chicken nuggets to milkshakes. It may seem silly, but I would always get more food just to make sure you would eat.

               You started to confide in me, a total stranger, things you said you had difficulty telling others. How you lived with your grandparents cause your mother didn't exactly care for you. How your father had left your mother and you to be with someone younger. How he would say he always regretted that decision but never did anything to fix it. How your grandfather threatened to kill you time and time again for silly little things. Even though I knew your grandfather wasn't sound of mind, it just made the whole situation scarier for me.