Dear Gisella
Everyone knows I love music. I play the guitar, the violin and the cello. I write lyrics to my own melodies, and praise classical music.
What most people don't know, is that I write whole songs. Humorous ones, you know? Or I thought they were. Here's one:
Frozen in the forest of fiends
Hopping from stream to stream
Searching for leaves greener than green
Being a giraffe is just the dream
Oh wait, it isn't
Something which others got, I just didn't
My neck isn't long,
My feet are too short-
I'm the midgetest of midgets
But why should that be a bother?
I'm still allowed among my brothers
But the trees high off
With leaves so sweet, so soft
I cannot reach, not without a ladder
But high stop the tree lies an adder
And one fine day
When my neck was stuck the same short way
And my brethren were enjoying the supple leaves
And I chattered my teeth to the wind,
The adder struck
Struck at the long necks of my brothers
Leaving me thinking-
What the ....
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I've written so many more. About zebras with spots, and vegetarian tigers. About Poor Princes and monkeys with wings. About swearing nuns and angelic alcoholics. I aimed to make people laugh, to make them think "wow, this guy's funny." But now that I'm at the end, I go through these songs and see a pattern.
Every song I wrote, is about someone who isn't fitting in. About someone who doesn't belong, someone with a rebellious streak, someone tired of being different.
Someone alienated.
Interpret this how you will, but I know what I've been trying to tell myself. I just didn't realize in time to fix it.
Don't get me wrong. My common sense affirms my belief- I belong here. I do.
But it's too little, too late isn't it? I don't know how to convince myself, not after all these years, and all these issues.
I just feel so alone, at times. So set apart form you, mum, dad. Which sucks.
Cause we've been together since before we were born. We shared umbilical cords for fuck's sake.
I'm sorry, Ella.
Despite all your trying, you couldn't be the fix-it Felix to my wreck-it Ralph.
Okay wow this was one deeepressing letter. Dang. Sorry bout that lol.
The thing is, I know what I'm about to do. And I know there's no way to justify it. None. I know it's wrong. But, well, I don't want to leave without reasons.
I know my treatment wasn't going well. I'm not stupid. I'm dying, anyway. If I'm going down, I'm going down my way.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Gisella {On Hold}
Genç Kurgu"Uh, Els," he frowned, looking at the man beside me. "Who exactly is this gentleman?" I stared at Roman blankly and said," This is my boyfriend. Duh." Roman's eyes widened fractionally, before he cleared his throat and questioned further. "Er. What...
