Letters From Iroh

Recall

I sat in my room. It was late in the night, and a haze of fog covered the trees outside my bedroom window, masking the stream of golden-white moonlight that filtered in to where I sat. I had an oil lamp burning by my wooden desk. I sat, hunched over a piece of paper, trying to reply to Iroh's many letters. The words wouldn't come. I thought for a few minutes, rubbing the back of my hand with my knuckles, staring at my teal-toned wall.

My room was square, and filled with pictures. A pro-bending poster hung over my bed, next to a poster of Nuktuk, an advertisement featuring Future Industries, and three United Forces posters. There were pictures of the northern lights on the ceiling above my bed, and there was a stuffed lemur next to my tangled ball of jewelry on my nightstand. My bed was square, and low to the ground, and my comforter had the phrase "Ba-Sing-Se Sail-Fish" all over it. It was a greenish color. I bought it at my university school store. I noticed a twinkling light as my silver ring that I always wear on my left hand reflected the lamp-light off of its curve. I sighed deeply and bent deeper into my hunch to begin writing.

Dear Iroh,

I want to tell you how much I love you. I want to write and say that I would travel the world with you, and leave my home here behind. I want to say that I'd leave with you in a heartbeat. If you came to my house I'd literally faint when I saw you. You're the most amazing man I can think of. If I could build the perfect man, he wouldn't be as great as you are. I want to tell you how I'm scared of what people will say if I go with you. Scared they'll say you dated down. Dated someone lame, ugly and stupid. People like me here. They think I'm funny and brave. They even say I could be a firebender, because I have such a passionate spirit. If only they knew how scared I really was. Scared to say how I really feel. Scared to open up, to show my weak spots. They see me cry. They think I'm sensitive, too. Honest. I don't ever tell them my true feelings. I coat everything in concessions, let them think I'm super nice, and fearless. But I'm dying inside. I'm twenty-five and never had a boyfriend, never loved anyone I want to tell you how much I care about you, but I'm scared to reply to you, because once you see that I'm not as brave as you think, you'll leave me behind. I want to take you up on your offer. I want to go with you, but I can't. I'd die out there.

And I'm not sending this.....

I crumpled up the piece of paper I was writing on and tossed it over my shoulder, onto the cold wood of the floor. "Who am I kidding?" I thought. "I can't send this." I bent over and started to scribble faster, more jokingly.

Dear Iroh,

I will go with you. Pick me up at dawn in the Dragon Flats borough of the City. I'll be dressed in something weird and not-fancy, like always.

Bao

P.S.: Sorry I didn't write back. I had stuff to do.

"No. no. NO!" I mumbled, whispering fiercely, as to not wake my brother. "I can't send that either. I'm a joke. A big joke."

I sighed deeply, inhaling and breathing out as I turned to unlatch the window, which was within reaching distance. I looked out on the backyard of my house. I loved it here. The mountains sloped in steady increments, rising slowly, then falling again. It had rained the past morning, and the heat of the noon-day sun had warmed the earth. Now in the chill midnight, the hills seemed to sigh with relief, as if they had just stepped out of an earthen spa. We lived fairly close to the City. Republic City to be exact.

My father and mother were both business leaders there. They took their little sailboat across Yue Bay into port every morning before the sunrise, to open up their offices. The little boat had a pretty decent motor, as our family could afford pretty nice things. We weren't rich, by any means, but we weren't poor either. My mother and father were both born in the United Republic, as were my brother and I. My mother's parents, though were from the Foggy Swamp.