Saudade

Part 1: Chapter 1:

Dear Jo,

Words really don't describe things or events very well. Don't get me wrong; I love the good book and a nice poem, but there isn't as much emotion. However, with that being said, that is most likely my fault. I've been negatively affected in terms of literature I assume. That's how I would put it anyway. 

All throughout school, they decide that only books required by law should be bothered with. Therefore, any pieces of literature that students otherwise desired to read were never touched because they were too busy forcing themselves onto the worthless classics that teachers assigned tests and essays for. By a series of events as well as this background, I have come to my own personal conclusion that words aren't really all that they have the potential to be.

However, that doesn't stop me from writing to you or occasionally to myself or others. So here goes my letter already on a sour note. Honestly, I promise I'm trying not to be so pessimistic. It's working to an extent I believe. People have begun acting much nicer to me since I started it. That may be my new perfume though; I'm never quite sure. 

I got it from this new boutique downtown called "Sally's No Non-Scents" and I frequent there about twice a week now. I usually go in there not sober (whether it be high or drunk I'm not always certain) and inhale the strong fumes. I then proceed to either talk to Sally, my new friend, or just observe the people that enter. It's usually quite amusing.

This one time, a group of high schoolers entered. They were of all grades I assumed. At least, they varied greatly in height and physical maturity, so I just assumed. The noticeably older ones took the lead in what smelt and looked good and the rest followed. It reminded me a bit of some girls I went to high school with. You wouldn't know them of course, but I'm sure that you could relate because they are at every high school. The preppy girls who turn their noses up to anything they believe to be beneath them. 

I honestly don't blame them for how they act. I mean, some of them are exceptionally nasty by their own choosing, but most of them just fall victim to lack of discipline as a child doubled with a sense of narcissism grown into them as adolescents when they are accepted as pretty and popular. The both of us know that these girls either burn out after graduation or are smart enough to do something with their lives. Meanwhile, people like you and me actually escape from this emotionally tarnishing hole and make something of ourselves.

There were other instances besides this one, of course. Once, a man about forty-five stumbled in and immediately grabbed his nose. Sally was helping another customer so he came up to me. "I need to get something for my wife for her birthday and she talks a lot about this store. Any tips?" I was only slightly drunk so I helped him. "What kind of smells does she like?" He shrugged and finally removed his fingers. "I don't know. Flowers I guess. I mean, the candle she just bought was rosemary. Is that what you're looking for?" 

Being the generous human I am, I led him to the flower section and suggested "September Spring" to him. "If your wife likes flowers and notices you've got her birth month correct, she'll think highly of you." On his face grew a smile that I wished I'd photographed. He then began shedding a tear or two and turned his head away from me. "My wife and I have been...having marital issues lately and I was hoping this present could make it up to her. It obviously won't, but it will be a step, right? Right?"

He grabbed my shoulder and I looked him in the eyes. There was actual remorse there about however bad this relationship was. "Hey, bud, cheer up. She'll love it. Let me ring you up okay?" I stumbled to the cash register and maneuvered it like I had on the occasions that Sally was tied up and there was a needy customer. 

As I gave him his receipt, I wrote my telephone number on it and spoke, "If you need any more help with your marriage or something, give me a call. I'm pretty good with relationships, if I may say so myself." He nodded, obviously quite relieved. He gave me a tip despite me not working there and I pocketed it. It could buy me some aspirin for the hangover I would have the following day.

The rest of the people I saw come in and out of the store were either vague or not worth your time right now. However, I'm sure you're quite interested in the fact that I admitted to being high and drunk. Here is my official admission: I still continue my habits of tobacco, alcohol, marijuana, and other assorted drug use. 

I'm fully aware of your last letter where you angrily informed me that I should stop immediately because of the lasting effects that it has on my health. Well, I have just two things to say to that. First, I am currently under the influence of alcohol and completely in control. Second, this self-medication is the only way I can successfully continue on in life after losing you. That's why I use the things that I do.

Your Little Lover,

Sam