This letter is from a series. It's closest one to Valentine's and the best I could do. The professor mentioned here is the creative writing teacher that Courtney, Andrew and I had. He didn't like our stories one bit.
February 12, 1997
Dear Stephanie,Morning has come and by fifty minutes satisfied itself as a new day. I think I'll make it matter. In some respect these hours will be key.
I find it strange the cleaning lady woke you up to inform she would be cleaning. What is it that a cleaning lady does? Regardless the trivial story was greatly appreciated. Concerning stories (trivial and otherwise) I still await a copy of yours. And how is it you can so easily be swayed by the criticism of one (your professor), and why is it I couldn't work that to my advantage? Nevertheless I wish to read your work, and will only be disappointing by it if never given the opportunity to do so.
Sorry to be so cryptic and whatever so that you didn't understand what I meant about Steve. I won't bother to explain. Actually I wonder why you mentioned it when there are infintatly more insignifcant details I'd rather addressed. Perhaps I should apologize again, sorry.
While not departed from the areas of sorry, extend my condolences to your friend Jenny. Guys are indeed terrible creatures, easily the weakness of our species. A soul is lucky to find a single decent one in many a lifetime. As for your guy trouble... I thought your release from Jeremy would make me happy (as you suggested it would) but it has not. I suppose the approximation of an abused cliche terms it proper: two sads don't make a happy. I want you so bad ('it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you') but I want more for you to be happy. Concerning Jeremy there is damnable much I would like to extend, but that is not important right now. What is important is you. For whatever reason he cannot understand or accommodate and so I will, I understand! :)
Someone one advised never to let school get in the way of learning. That's pretty sound I think. I don't believe I'm the best suited to offer any advice about your college crisis, but I would like to try. Two thing seem apparent, Number 1: it's your life for a reason Number 2: you want to be a writer, and writers don't write for other people they write for themselves. What kind of education could possibly prepare you for such a vocation? Only everything that happens to you. You'll find few people who will give you anything you are not willing to take. So if you know what it is you want, and you can have it; grab it. It's only a potential universe for so long.
Perpetually Yours,
Hmm, I'll have to keep rooting around for something sappy. Certainly have some pledge of love I never had the courage to send.
Yikes that creative writing course. If I had actually applied myself my freshman year, and actually studied instead of playing video games and watching cartoons, I probably would have done better at that class... Think I got a gentleman's C in that one. I aced that Govt. class we both had. I took the hint and changed majors.
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