I know this is a stretch but I’m writing in hopes of finding someone I used to know. Her name is Tami and she used to be quite a wonderful writer. She was quite wonderful at lots of things but ever since I could remember, writing was the secret thing she loved doing…and she did for herself. In her teenage years, she always kept journals and I got fleeting glances at them and they were filled with such passion. Such hopefulness. Big dreams. The possibility of anything. I know when she went to college, she was conflicted because her love of writing got muddied by papers and long-winded drivel that she didn’t care much for…and instead, she took another path. I think about Tami often and I’m reaching out in case you’re the person I’m speaking of. The one who never wrote for other eyes to see it. Just taking pen to paper (as it was back then) because she loved it so. Because if you wrote it down, it made things real. Capturing something that she felt so much because she didn’t want to ever forget it.
If this is you, I hope that you’ve continued to discover the great happiness you found in words – in the act of writing instead of saying so much. You never did say much to folks you didn’t know. So protective of your heart. Your mind. If you’re still writing, I do hope you’re sharing it with someone – does the writing exist (or matter) if no one sees it? I hope you’ve gone through your life and the tumultuousness that everyone faces in the process of growing older…and I hope you’ve done it with as much grace and eloquence as I know you’re capable of. What ever happened to that raggedy, dog-eared copy of Walden that you used to carry around? It would have been so cliché and tormented if you hadn’t loved that book so damned much.
If you’re not the Tami that I’m looking for, I’m sorry. Thanks for taking the time – maybe over a cup of tea – to entertain this letter. Maybe hearing about someone that felt things truly and fearlessly will make you write, as well…if you don’t already. It’s not the easiest way to document ones life but, from all accounts, it sure seems worth it. Maybe this letter will make you write to someone else, to send note of thanks or devotion to someone that deserves it. It could make you read a great book and be inspired – that Death of Artemio Cruz is always a good one for that. I hope this finds you living fully…and openly…and honestly. Heck – tell someone about your day. The Sunday that you’re spending in your kitchen, maybe. There’s merit in that, too, ya know.
Thanks again for your time. If you’re the Tami I’m looking for – that I’m sure lots of people are looking for – I hope you’re living as brazenly as you always have and that you’re sharing it with someone. It certainly made an impression on me. You don’t have to write me back – just keep doing what you’re doing. Miss you & think of you often.