Letter 6

Dear you,

You know those nights you have work to get done, but you can barely keep yourself awake? Yes?

Well, tonight is not one of those nights.

Tonight is one of those nights I have nothing in particular to do, and I really should be getting to sleep, but I can’t bring myself to go to bed.

I’m unsure why I’m not tired. I’ve never been good at falling asleep, though, especially when it’s my deepest desire… in that moment (sleep has never been my deepest desire generally speaking). I’ve been told it’s because I think too much. As a kid, I could remember tossing in bed for what felt to be forever. I would look at my digital clock that glowed red block numbers to see an hour had gone by. I will admit, though, most nights, before falling asleep, I would write stories in my head, so perhaps it was the thinking, or my imagination that would keep me up, and it still does.

If you’d ask me what I’ve been thinking about tonight, I couldn’t answer. I don’t think it’s one thing in particular.

At the moment, though, it’s you.

How was your day? Was the majority of it good?

I know at times we can live our days in “auto-live.” We can commute to work without even noticing the view. We can ask someone how they are without remembering their answer. We can finish a cup of coffee without realizing we ever got halfway through it.

Why do we let life be like this?

Can’t we live each day with our once known childhood excitement? It is built on nothing in particular, only the idea of being alive.

What is it you miss most from your childhood? Is it something you could continue today?

I miss my confidence. I knew I was going to change the world when I was younger. I knew it. I wish I knew things as I once did.

I guess I just knew less of the world we live in back then. Is this why our childhood dies? Because we enter this world?

If this is so, why do we enter this world? Why is it that we don’t bring the goodness from childhood with us?

This conversation makes me think of my favorite childhood book, The Outsiders. I loved that book; I’ve read it numerous times. If you haven’t read it, it’s a must. If you have, this conversation is like the poem says, “Nothing gold can stay.” But how can we take Johnny’s last words and “stay gold.” Is there a way this world can learn to “stay gold?”

I am sitting out on my porch right now. The lights in apartments are slowly going out as people say goodbye to the day. Perhaps I should give my bed some more thought. I have to be up early tomorrow.

It was a pleasure writing to you. Good-bye for now, you lovely stranger.

Yours Truly,

RCG