cherry
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this is a goodbye letter to my girlfreind, i changed her name but other than that it's the same. we have to break up because we're going travelling and to uni.
i know it's cheesy, but it had to be really. i just need your advise. grammar, spelling and also just if i've missed anything. is it overdone? is it crap? should i say anything else?
Dear Megan with the plane ticket,
As you read this you’re on your way to another country, I know you’re nervous, but I hope you’re excited too, I know you won’t regret going. I can picture you rising above the clouds away from all this like Harper in the end of Angels in America. God Megan, I’m so envious of you.
Know that I’m no good at this, I’d prefer to tell you all this in person, it would come out better, it would come out with more feeling, but no doubt I’d ramble on and the point of what I was trying to say would be lost. So here I give you the points, the meaning you’ll have to imagine for yourself. As you read this imagine you’re sitting on your own on a bench somewhere in the city. Maybe in a remote corner of the barbican in a little enclosed square, or on the South bank, or in Leicester square. It’s night, very late or very early, maybe four in the morning, and there’s no one around. It’s warm, you only have a t-shirt on, but the air’s fresh. I’ll sit here with you and try and explain how I feel, but inevitably, I’ll fail miserably. Oh well, at least it’s a nice night.
Actually as I write this Jane is making music in her studio, it’s sad, the kind of ambient music that’s making me feel melancholy and sounds like the soundtrack to a film. It keeps cutting out when she stops it to make a change, adjusting volumes or adding loops and samples. It’s what made me want to write this actually. It reminded me of our relationship, how it’s not finished but must come to an end regardless.
I think about all the nights we spent together, all the nights we walked back to your flat in the cool heat of the summer evenings. They were my favourite times, walking back from pizza express all those months ago to the flat in London bridge, having prawns in that restaurant near the market and then going to after-school. I love that flat Megan, there we can be in our own little world. It all started there, do you remember? The first night we were together? We had a bath and fell together onto your bed, afterwards we sat together on the balcony in the night air looking towards the south bank, the Tate modern, the place we sat with chorizo sandwiches and I made up stupid names for the buildings. Then we went inside and watched that crap TV programme, ‘Sugar Rush’, do you remember that?
And then in the morning having coffee on the balcony of the Tate overlooking the river.
Dear Megan with the chocolate brownies, Megan with so many pairs of underwear and far too many tubes of lipgloss.
I hope you know how much I appreciated all the little things you did, bringing me Starbucks lemon juicy water while I was working, saving me a brownie. I know I didn’t show it very well, in my own strange way acting like I took it all for granted was my way of showing affection, I felt like in acting so casually about everything I was showing that I was comfortable with you, and that I didn’t need to show my affection so publicly. I know now this was the wrong idea to have. But I always appreciated it every time you bought me a drink, or paid for dinner, or wore matching underwear! And in all those little ways you thought about me.
Dear Megan with the lazy eyes,
I’m just sorry I’ve been such a terrible girlfriend over the months. I think I’ve probably bought you more headaches than happiness. I’m sorry I behaved so badly around your friends, embarrassed you, tainted days and weeks and our whole relationship by doing so many stupid things that I should have known not to do. You deserve better than to be with an idiot like me.
Dear Megan the patient listener,
You listened so often to my ranting, and I’m sorry I couldn’t write you the story you wanted me to write, I tried so many times to sit down and do it, but nothing was good enough, too clichéd, too boring, too obvious. Scripts aren’t good presents and stories about knights come out sounding like children’s books. So I decided to write you this letter instead, I spent my whole relationship rambling, why stop now?
I am writing a story for you now though Megan, as melodramatic and ridiculous as only the writings of a self-obsessed film-geek can be. Keep in contact, when it’s done, I’ll send it to you. I hope I’ve shown you what inspires me, I hope I can tell you. All those films we watched, Oldboy, Angels in America. The South bank, the NFT. One day I’ll be a better writer Megan, maybe then I’ll be able to give you your knight.
I hope you remember all the good times we had and not all the times I let you down. I know I’ll always think back on this year and remember all the fun we had. All those memories, Fuerzabruta, Konditor and Cook, borough market, the South bank, DarrallMacqueen, massage oil, hot baths together.
I once told you that true beauty only existed on celluloid. Do you remember? Hung over from speed and feeling emotional I decided to punish your good deed by ranting cynical bullshit at you while you tried to look after me. But I was wrong, there were girls before you, but they didn’t mean anything, all they did was make me cynical and bitter about people. What we had meant so much to me Megan, for me the memories are like a film. Hazy love scenes, druggy and slurred, I won’t remember all the time we argued, I hope you don’t either. If you remember one thing, just remember those warm summer nights, walking back to your flat together.
We’re starting new chapters in our life now, and I’m sad that I can’t be there to write it with you. But I’m excited for you, I look forward to seeing who greets me at the door at your new flat in Belsize park.
“Nothing's lost forever. In this world, there's a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind, and dreaming ahead. At least I think that's so.”
All my love,
Molly x x x
i know it's cheesy, but it had to be really. i just need your advise. grammar, spelling and also just if i've missed anything. is it overdone? is it crap? should i say anything else?
Dear Megan with the plane ticket,
As you read this you’re on your way to another country, I know you’re nervous, but I hope you’re excited too, I know you won’t regret going. I can picture you rising above the clouds away from all this like Harper in the end of Angels in America. God Megan, I’m so envious of you.
Know that I’m no good at this, I’d prefer to tell you all this in person, it would come out better, it would come out with more feeling, but no doubt I’d ramble on and the point of what I was trying to say would be lost. So here I give you the points, the meaning you’ll have to imagine for yourself. As you read this imagine you’re sitting on your own on a bench somewhere in the city. Maybe in a remote corner of the barbican in a little enclosed square, or on the South bank, or in Leicester square. It’s night, very late or very early, maybe four in the morning, and there’s no one around. It’s warm, you only have a t-shirt on, but the air’s fresh. I’ll sit here with you and try and explain how I feel, but inevitably, I’ll fail miserably. Oh well, at least it’s a nice night.
Actually as I write this Jane is making music in her studio, it’s sad, the kind of ambient music that’s making me feel melancholy and sounds like the soundtrack to a film. It keeps cutting out when she stops it to make a change, adjusting volumes or adding loops and samples. It’s what made me want to write this actually. It reminded me of our relationship, how it’s not finished but must come to an end regardless.
I think about all the nights we spent together, all the nights we walked back to your flat in the cool heat of the summer evenings. They were my favourite times, walking back from pizza express all those months ago to the flat in London bridge, having prawns in that restaurant near the market and then going to after-school. I love that flat Megan, there we can be in our own little world. It all started there, do you remember? The first night we were together? We had a bath and fell together onto your bed, afterwards we sat together on the balcony in the night air looking towards the south bank, the Tate modern, the place we sat with chorizo sandwiches and I made up stupid names for the buildings. Then we went inside and watched that crap TV programme, ‘Sugar Rush’, do you remember that?
And then in the morning having coffee on the balcony of the Tate overlooking the river.
Dear Megan with the chocolate brownies, Megan with so many pairs of underwear and far too many tubes of lipgloss.
I hope you know how much I appreciated all the little things you did, bringing me Starbucks lemon juicy water while I was working, saving me a brownie. I know I didn’t show it very well, in my own strange way acting like I took it all for granted was my way of showing affection, I felt like in acting so casually about everything I was showing that I was comfortable with you, and that I didn’t need to show my affection so publicly. I know now this was the wrong idea to have. But I always appreciated it every time you bought me a drink, or paid for dinner, or wore matching underwear! And in all those little ways you thought about me.
Dear Megan with the lazy eyes,
I’m just sorry I’ve been such a terrible girlfriend over the months. I think I’ve probably bought you more headaches than happiness. I’m sorry I behaved so badly around your friends, embarrassed you, tainted days and weeks and our whole relationship by doing so many stupid things that I should have known not to do. You deserve better than to be with an idiot like me.
Dear Megan the patient listener,
You listened so often to my ranting, and I’m sorry I couldn’t write you the story you wanted me to write, I tried so many times to sit down and do it, but nothing was good enough, too clichéd, too boring, too obvious. Scripts aren’t good presents and stories about knights come out sounding like children’s books. So I decided to write you this letter instead, I spent my whole relationship rambling, why stop now?
I am writing a story for you now though Megan, as melodramatic and ridiculous as only the writings of a self-obsessed film-geek can be. Keep in contact, when it’s done, I’ll send it to you. I hope I’ve shown you what inspires me, I hope I can tell you. All those films we watched, Oldboy, Angels in America. The South bank, the NFT. One day I’ll be a better writer Megan, maybe then I’ll be able to give you your knight.
I hope you remember all the good times we had and not all the times I let you down. I know I’ll always think back on this year and remember all the fun we had. All those memories, Fuerzabruta, Konditor and Cook, borough market, the South bank, DarrallMacqueen, massage oil, hot baths together.
I once told you that true beauty only existed on celluloid. Do you remember? Hung over from speed and feeling emotional I decided to punish your good deed by ranting cynical bullshit at you while you tried to look after me. But I was wrong, there were girls before you, but they didn’t mean anything, all they did was make me cynical and bitter about people. What we had meant so much to me Megan, for me the memories are like a film. Hazy love scenes, druggy and slurred, I won’t remember all the time we argued, I hope you don’t either. If you remember one thing, just remember those warm summer nights, walking back to your flat together.
We’re starting new chapters in our life now, and I’m sad that I can’t be there to write it with you. But I’m excited for you, I look forward to seeing who greets me at the door at your new flat in Belsize park.
“Nothing's lost forever. In this world, there's a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind, and dreaming ahead. At least I think that's so.”
All my love,
Molly x x x
