Happy birthday is probably a good place to start considering by the time this reaches you it could be Monday. If it’s Saturday or Tuesday then I’m sorry, blame it on the postal service for being over-efficient or somewhat unreliable. If you received and read my email I suppose you’ll know that I said I was going to get you a star and a surprise. By logical reasoning, this must be the surprise as it certainly is no star!

Now I shall take you on a tour of the contents of this surprise because I realise the meaning of each thing may not be apparent. Enclosed there should be:
This letter
The letter I wrote you before the summer
A playing card
Song lyrics

OK. This letter should be obvious; you’re reading it (I hope). The other letter is here just because it felt right to finally hand it over and it could prove useful to cross-reference with explanations of things I write here. The playing card holds a fair bit of significance I suppose. It’s the card from the pack that you picked a card from one day after school, the Jack of Hearts, what a coincidentally ironic choice you made. Jayne rambled a bit about symbolism of that card, nothing too important perhaps. Yes that’s my mobile number on the side of it. Surely you remember the stupid idea I had had about that. Oh dear, I guess that now that idea has been put into practice. Hehe, the offer still stands, if you still can’t play poker, it would be fun to teach you – nothing pervy, no strip poker if you’re concerned, just the game itself. What you do with the knowledge of how to play is entirely up to you. Hopefully nothing a good Christian wouldn’t do anyway.

Hmm, lyrics. They are from an Incubus song. “Incubus” means a nasty demon-like creature which visits sleeping women and has intercourse with them (this is not the meaning I intend) or it can be taken to mean some sort of burden (this is the meaning I refer to in the other letter). I just thought it would be a good idea to clarify that in case you looked up the definition and became a little worried. In fact, please rest assured and  understand that when I wrote “You are my incubus” I did not mean that you were an evil spirit that has raped me, nor do I intend to imply I am a woman. We’re clear on that now? Good. The lyrics themselves, or rather the song, bear relevance to how I feel about you - in part. If you read them, you should be able to link which bits relate and which bits don't.

Ah, my feelings… Now there’re some things that are a bit messed up. I suppose as far as I need to delve into them just now is that I want you to know you are still on my mind oftentimes and I persist in my like of you. You still hold me trapped, wrapped up in your mysteriousness which folds you away behind satin veil; voluptuous layering of cloth keeping you unknown to me. I find it exceptionally funny to think back to when I saw you and Fiona walking about school occasionally, arm in arm, an air of ‘special’ following you. I used to think that people who were able to speak to you very lucky and never assumed I’d ever have opportunity to do so. Well, what do you know, I am now writing to you after starting to live a dream I cannot wake from.

People tell me to ‘get over’ you and ‘move on’ - to wake from my dream if you will. I have made a decision not to. To my mind, ‘getting over’ conjures up a not too pleasant image concerning legs. Most likely just my dirty mind, think nothing of it. ‘Moving on’ – well I’m not going anywhere so why should I move? No, like it or not, you are always going to be a part of me and vice versa I should think. I’m just going to accept that, hopefully you can too. I went from being happily single to unhappily single and now I’m learning to be happily unhappily single. Thank you. No sarcasm is intended, I literally mean a great bit thanks, whether you consider it deserved or not I insist on bestowing it upon you.

I’m now at a loss concerning to where to go. This tends to happen, I really enjoy your company but can never manage to say anything so I end up feeling like you would rather not know me and you probably just think I’m boring (which I am, but you can ask my friends about that). I really do want to extend to you the warmest, absolutely trusting and most open friendship I know how. I know I like you and that you don’t feel likewise. I’m doing a poor job of showing that I am OK with that but the truth is, I like living the dream. Don’t let that prevent a nice friendship though because as much as I appear to have missed every subtle hint you have ever given me, I picked up on them but chose to disregard them. I was dumb. Please, make clear what you want and that’s all I’ll endeavour to give, just ignore anything inappropriate.

Lol, I sincerely hope your parents don’t read your mail and that you don’t freak out at this. Ah well, it’s written now, it should be sent. What’s the point of writing words never to be read? If any of this is worrying, discuss it with me, even if your side of the discussion is along the lines of “I never want to speak to you again” – it would be better to know than to wonder.

Anyway, it’s now almost quarter past twelve and I’m shattered. I have to go and catch some zZZ’s in order to live a day longer.

With overwhelming love and confusion,


Christopher