Dear Dale

Fiction Work. Genre: Teen Fiction, Sci Fi
Written on: July 22, 2014


Dear Dale,

I’ve never gotten the chance to properly talk to you. But there are some things that I want you to know. I can’t say these things to anyone else. They’d be annoyed. But you won’t. Or maybe you will. I’m just assuming you won’t because this is about you.

You know a part of it. You probably thought I’d forgotten about it. When I said I liked you I didn’t know what I was talking about. Honestly. It was just something I felt like doing. And I was deadly afraid of the consequences. I didn’t have the slightest idea of what it would do to me. To my life.

It was euphoria at first. It made me think I was normal. That I really was just another teenage girl. But how could I escape the reality of my life? How could I lie to myself about what I was? What I am? I couldn’t. I can’t. It’s sad that I only realized that when it was already too late.

When you talked with me I was nine clouds high. When you asked about me I felt so blessed. But you were just playing with me. You were just having fun; toying around with my feelings. I didn’t mind back then. It hurt. But I didn’t mind. It’s different now. Time and tide wait for none, they say. They didn’t wait for me. And neither did you. I was there. I was on my way. But you didn’t wait. You picked up a random trinket and left. I stood there, wondering why you didn’t show up.

I wasn’t mad at you. I’m never mad at you. I just wished you would understand; would at least appreciate me. The Anomaly of the Century. It’s okay. I don’t anymore. You don’t have to try.

You’re probably wondering what that is, right? Ever wondered how weird my name sounds? Tacy? It’s actually TACy. I was never supposed to tell anyone. Then why am I telling you? Because I’m never posting this letter. They don’t even have any post offices anymore. I’m probably just going to send you an automated “Sorry about everything. Be happy with your life” and move on. I wish I could though. I wish you could actually read this…

I’m straying.

Sometimes when I think back to the time when I was brooding over you, I think it was blind infatuation. But then I notice that tiny but distinct heat inside me. The same one that I felt whenever I was around you. And then I wonder, was it really just infatuation? Could it have been something more? Could it have been something less? Why did I feel a pang of guilt whenever you left the room uninterested? Why did I feel a sting of anger when you didn’t notice me? Was it all just a part of a dream?

I don’t know. I don’t want to know I guess. It’s just that I’ve gotten used to it. I am what I always was, but I’m not who I used to be. And I will never be. I am changing every minute, every second of my life. Every day is a new horizon. Every moment a new adventure. I have learned to live my life the way I was meant to. And you were an important part of this change.

I’m grateful to you. You taught me the most valuable lessons of my life. You made me realize what was worth dying for, and what was not.

I don’t know what else I could possibly say to you. So I will stop here. I might come back at some point, but I won’t promise anything.

Your Once-Upon-a Time-Admirer

One thought on “Dear Dale”

  1. Reblogged this on Khan's Lantern and commented:

    Here is something I wrote about a year ago. This complies with today’s Writing 101 task. SO I thought I’d reblog. Enjoy!
    Psst. Don’t forget the poll on the sidebar if you haven’t taken it yet.


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