Dear Sadie

4: Trading Notes

After a week, Sadie receives yet another letter from the mysterious stranger.

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Sadie lay against the grass in the backyard, with only a blanket between her back and the soiled, uncut grass. The crack of dawn stretches before the young woman, the scent and quiet of the surroundings during first daylight casting her a nostalgic feeling. 

She had always taken a great liking in watching the sunrise; the dawn's mixes of colors were the primary reason her favorite color is yellow, all shades of it, and even with traces of red and orange.

Sadie swoons as she waits for the moment when the sun first peeks over the distant horizon. After a few seconds, Sadie sighs in amusement—before her sight now, it is dusky orange, suddenly pierced by a bright burst of light. 

The clouds had started to gleam, the shades of colors racing with one another; golds, pinks, and the softest blues—colors she could never have imagined before.

She wasn't quite finished with watching the break of dawn when she hears the sound of a motorcycle halting just in front of their house. She abruptly stands from her position, sneaking to the side with hopes of taking a peek as to whoever just visited them.

Her mouth hangs when she sees the mailman put something inside their mailbox.

Sadie rushes to the letterbox, too excited that she overlooks the mailman still standing across her. "I haven't seen anyone get excited with a mail—"

"Aaaah!" she yelps in surprise. "Oh uh, mailman! You're still here?"

"Sorry, kiddo," he snickers, riding his motorcycle. "Just about to leave. Are you Sadie?"

"Well, uh...yeah, kinda. I'm Sadie."

"Ah, yes," he smiles. "That means today's mail is yours, kid. Happy reading."

Sadie immediately takes the letter inside, sending knots inside her stomach upon recognizing the sender's handwriting. It's him; it's Ethan. He sent her yet another letter.

6th of August, 2020

Bauan, Batangas

Dear Sadie,

I won't lie, I adore your letter; but seriously, 'greetings' kinda made me wheeze. Just so you know, Sadie, we're not sending emails to our professors. But thanks for making me laugh today. Appreciated. First things first, though: don't swear if you're not gonna do it in the first place. We both know you won't kill me if you see me, Sadie, and besides, who told you that you're gonna see me anytime soon? The time you'd see me, we'd probably be best friends or something :p don't make any promises.

Anyway, uh, I'm sorry, again, for reading your diary. Even if I wasn't meant to, I still read it, so I really owe you an apology. A million apologies, to be honest, because I'm completely aware of how humiliating this is for you. And apologies for assuming a girl owns a pink diary because it's pink, but let me tell you this as well: not because something's in the garbage bin it's already rubbish. What if someone stole it then threw it there, or what if you accidentally left it somewhere and it ends up in the garbage? And besides, a diary with your secrets isn't exactly rubbish. Somehow, deep down, I know you're thankful because it's me who got your journal and not some weirdo. Sadie, FYI, you basically left your notebook somewhere, a notebook without a lock or something, with all your personal information written inside. People can use that against you, you know. But hey, thank goodness I'm not someone who blackmails! Don't throw away stuff containing all the things about you, Sadie. Don't do this ever again.

Anyway, I'm not a stalker, but whatever you say. Well, I was about to stalk your social media, only to find nothing. As in, nothing! All the Sadies I saw were old ladies, or women in their thirties or something. Some were very young kids, and no Sadie-who-left-her-diary. It's the twenty-first century. Don't you have social media accounts? But I admit that it's very vigilant of you not to have social media. Or maybe you just deactivated, or maybe it's private. I'm not forcing you to give it to me, though. No pressure, I also like these anonymous notes. I mean, don't you?

I don't know how many times I've said sorry today, but I'm saying sorry again because I kinda remembered something right now. You see, Sadie, I'm currently resting in the Kubo as I write this letter. There's iced coffee in front of me because, well, I'm a simp for cold coffee. Are you? Anyway, I was writing to you when I caught a glimpse of sunflower seeds just across the table, along with other seeds that my grandfather bought because he's planting some flowers later in the afternoon with me. Your diary entry where you mentioned you tried to grow sunflowers and failed kinda popped inside my mind. It's hilarious, but...would you like me to plant sunflowers for you? Just say the word, and I will. The word is, I mean, are: pretty pwease, Ethan?

Speaking of sunflowers, any particular reason why you want to grow some of them? Are you a fan of Plants vs. Zombies, or are you an avid fan of yellow? When I see them, I'm reminded of Baguio. Have you been there? If not, then you're clearly missing out, miss.

Lastly...thanks for writing back. I'm kinda surprised when Lolo told me I'd got mail. He thought I had a girlfriend or something; it's ridiculous! Well, uh...I appreciate you changing your mind and allowing me to exchange letters with you, Sadie. It means a lot to me. But, see? Who would've thought the rain would pour when you were reading my letter? That's absolutely fate, Sadie, because TBH, I just invented that "Like having an umbrella when the rain pours" thing. :p

By the way, whoever or whatever snake you were talking about in your letter, I'm not like that, I promise, because I'm a cute panda! Just kidding, but I do love pandas. What's your favorite animal? Do you have a pet? I have three dogs.

Don't challenge me, Sadie. I'd last more than you will. And hey, remember your last diary entry when you said that it's only "me, myself, and I," I want you to disregard that. Because now, it's not just you. It's you and me—and you're not alone.

P.S. Please tell me you drink coffee. Just, please.

Yours,

Ethan