I know this is somewhat strange but i love writing letters. However, I often find myself with no one to write a letter to. So, since about 7th grade I've been writing letters to someone I love that i do not know. Here is my most recent love letter to no one.
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Dear love,
I’m going to the cape this weekend. It’s still February and freezing and I look forward to the isolation of water and cold gray beaches. I know it’s strange that I prefer the beach in the winter or at night but I think the beach gets lost sometimes during those hot summer days. The sand gets lost under towels, umbrellas and sun blocked infants. The sea gets lost under floats, and floating fifteen year olds. I get lost under sun block and the daze I get when it’s too hot and too bright. Now, I do love sun block and babies and floats and sunglasses and warm sand and lovely hot days at the beach. But the true beach for me is empty, save seaweed and tall dune grass. It’s just waves and salt and sand, so you can see the seam that the beach really is. That joint where water meets land. When you can look out forever and see the curve of the earth. That is the beach.
I am going alone, my love, to the cape again. I can be alone there so much easier than I can be alone anywhere else. There is an ease of being alone when you are already isolated by the sea. There is a safety of being in solitude when protected by beaches and empty houses.
While I value my ability to be alone on the cape there is always that quiet longing for someone to be alone with. My love I know if you were real and you were here you would understand. The desire to be quiet for days with someone. Reading side by side by the sea. Of curling up in cold hammocks and walking down empty gray beaches. It is an art being alone with another person. Not entertaining, not forcing communication. Just two islands surrounded by the sea silently waving their trees at each other.
Love,
Emma
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