With This Pen and Paper

7

Saying that you are going to write a letter and actually writing it are two very different things. I should've known that by then. I spent days thinking about what I was going to say to him. Nothing I did seemed important enough to put it in a letter and send it to the other side of the world. I managed to convince myself that it wasn't worth it just to talk myself into writing it again. It was exhausting and I hadn't even written anything down.
The day I finally managed to write something was the day a storm hit. I had been in class when the first signs of the storm came around and thought I could make it back to the house before the most of it hit. I was wrong. I managed to find some shelter in the library. I sat in the the back corner in between two shelves. There were a couple of William Shakespeare sonnets on one of the shelves. It made me remember the time when Elijah had played Romeo in our school play when we were twelve. He didn't even need to practice his lines he already had the whole thing memorised. I think that was the moment that every girl at school started to see him differently. I pulled out one of my notebooks and started writing to boy from my memory.

Dear Elijah,
I hope that it is okay that I am writing you, your mother saw my grandmother and well you know how they are.
How are you? That was a stupid question of me to ask. I don't really know what to write. Forgive me but I am going to ask you another stupid question, are you okay? Both physically and otherwise.
For the first time since leaving home there is a storm. Which I am hiding from in the library. I found the Shakespeare section. Do you remember when our school did Romeo and Juliet? I still remember how quickly all the girls started to notice you after that. You were oblivious as per usual.
Classes aren't as crowded as I thought they would be, but they will most likely pick up in size when the semester starts.
I wish you were here with me. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry but it's the truth. I hope the war ends soon and you are able to come home. I think you would like it here very much. I'm pretty sure if you saw the size of this library you might pass out - in the same fashion that Martha Stein did in the 7th grade on Halloween when you jumped out at her. You were truly a wicked boy but I suppose you can't be fully to blame how we're you supposed to know she was scared of scarecrows.
I suppose I should end it here, you probably don't have a lot of time to read over there and I don't want to bother you.
You don't have to write back I just thought I'd let you know I miss you.
Please be careful
Love, Josie xx