It was either I read too often, preferred my solitude over their noisy adventures, spoke about things they weren't familiar with, or maybe it was my desire to prove a human didn't need another to live life, but I was always the wallflower.
I thought it was time for a change.
One day I read a blog; Snail Mail: A Dying Art. It interested me, and so I searched for pen pal websites safe enough to trust, then placed my ad.
Waited,
waited,
and waited.
"There seems to have been enough signs," my arm twisted around the throw pillow. "Enough in my life, and they all point to be alone, Lania, be alone." My voice grew deeper as I slouched onto the couch, "ah-low-na."
"Would you stop. I always invite you out, you turn me down, ME, shit," Felicia sipped on soda while placing her legs over her boyfriend. Her head rested on my shoulders as she whispered, "not to mention, you could get some fine ass out there. Guys are easy, anyway."
"Heard that." Hank muttered while jiggling her thighs. Felicia giggled, spilling soda on her shorts.
He chuckled,
she giggled,
they kissed,
and I sat staring at them with dark circles under my eyes.
Yeah, just rub it all over my face,...and couch, you savages.
The longer I sat there, the more I sunk into the sofa.
"Lord, shoot me."
Then, I suppose he did. After a couple seconds, my phone alerted me of an email; someone responded to my pen pal ad.
My very first pen pal; the most wonderful man, and I feel blessed to have gained much from just writing him all those few years. We wrote through email, then once we felt comfortable, we decided to write to each other the old fashioned way.
He never offered me anything, and I never asked for anything either. It was two people seeking each other for not small talk, but deep secrets we couldn't confess to anyone who knew us personally. It also was never a romantic relationship. Sometimes, when my heart would skip a beat, I would think it was because I was falling for him. Though, it never was that. I loved him as a person should love life. The main thing I loved was how willing he was to share, to tell me everything. By the end of the second year, I felt as if he were my shadow. I knew him so well, and he knew me.
Three years worth of letters all stored in a shoe box.
He became sick once I turned 22. Then one day, his letter arrived with one big 'thank you' written on the front. He admitted to being near the end of his time. At 54, I felt it to be too soon, he said it was about time smoking caught up to him.
Mr. Wallis then decided to give something. Something he knew I'd be too shy, and stubborn to go after.
YOU ARE READING
Mr. Wallis
RomanceLania had been pen pals with an old gentleman from across seas in the United Kingdom, writing him for years till he becomes deeply ill. The last letter she received had a big THANK YOU, and she wrote back saying her own farewell. Expecting a final...
