Status: Done :)
Letters to Tammy
Letter 2
Tammy, guess what? I am on a plane to Madrid, Spain. My boss finally gave me the promotion I have deserved for the past five years. I will be running our Spanish branch which has just recently opened. I guess it’s a good thing you talked me into taking those courses for Spanish, it will really come in handy now. If that wasn't good enough, work got me an apartment with a view overlooking the city, plus they pay my rent. You would have loved it Tams, thrown me a huge party and declared to all our friends that we were moving. They would joke about how weird our relationship is. You would tell them they didn't understand because they were all the only children their parents had had. Then you would talk about how your parents maybe different from mine’s but we were as good as sisters. You would rant about how the six of us ate breakfast and dinner together every day. How our parents were the best of friends. They would all apologize and the party would thin out till it was just us. You would talk about all the places in Europe you wanted to see. I would talk about and stress over all the work that had to be done to keep this branch in business. You would tell me to relax and I would remind you I didn't know how. Then you would laugh and tell me I was the most fun person you know. You had to say things like that, you were, are my sister.
Remember the trouble we got ourselves into in high school. You convinced me to play hooky so would could say we did it when our kids asked us. I gave into the request as usual but we both knew my motive was Claude, the French exchange student with the beautiful accent. I can still remember his smoky brown eyes and soft black hair. They way he laughed as we pranced around in the mall in sailor moon costumes. He was 17, I was 14. His lips pressed against mine after you “mysteriously” disappeared. What I thought would be awkward turned out to be a pleasant first kiss. This budded into a pleasant first relationship with a neat end at the end of his term. You marveled at “the businesslike manner” in which I handled the breakup. I told you I knew the terms when we started to date. We both knew he had to go back to France. He was an exchange student after all. You cried at the airport as we said goodbye to him. You were always more emotional than me. I am reserved, only allowing emotion to show on paper and of course when talking to you.
I never told you I cried the first night he left. I felt too foolish to reveal that the inevitable hurt me. I wish I could tell you now. That I could turn over to the seat next to me and you are there instead of it being empty. I would say ‘hey you remember Claude.’ You would widen you gray eyes in a way that said duh without word and laugh. Then I would tell you, you would probably tell me that you knew. Somehow that comforted me, the thought that the one secret I kept from you, you knew. It was an empty comfort; it lasted about as long as a second and then the ache returned.
Ever since you have gone Tammy everything we have done together, basically my whole life, has been playing like a movie in my head. You telling me in the second grade how you thought my chocolate brown hair was prettier than yours. Then in fourth grade when you defended me to a bully who said only freaks have oak colored eyes. In sixth grade when you made me look up eye shapes only to marvel that it revealed that I had hooded eyes. I always thought it was funny that you thought I was so beautiful. You never seemed to notice you own brilliant beauty. The way your hair refused to be straight, or how your dimples framed your lips perfectly. You refused to acknowledge that guys thought you were pretty. Always shying away from the attention you would receive.
How you would use your curls to block your face as you laughed, I knew it was because you thought your smile was ugly. A notion placed in your head by a jealous girl in the eighth grade, one that stuck with you for the rest of your life. I also knew you had no idea how beautiful you looked through that curtain of red. How boys would tell me that in those moments they wanted nothing more than to hold you and to hear your laughter forever. I am sure if that jealous girl saw you hidden behind your hair she would have wished that she kept her mouth shut.
I can’t remember the last time I laughed Tammy. Before your death, I knew that much. It feels like years, but really you have only been gone two months. I am still not used to it. I am hoping that moving somewhere new will help ease the pain a bit. That it will somehow make life more bearable. I am worse than ever now, all work, no play. I guess by Jane’s standards, that makes me a dull girl. I lost contact with the friends we made. I have even been talking to our moms less, especially your mom, I know my pain can never compare to hers. Your dad has gotten ill since your death; my dad says he can’t lose someone else he loves. I couldn't lose you but that sentiment didn't matter when your heart stopped. I still lost you, and there is nothing anyone can do about that. I have no one to talk to about my feelings Tammy. So I will keep talking to you like I always have, knowing you will never again hear me. I like to think I know…knew…know you well enough to hear your response in my mind.
Well Tammy, I should attempt to sleep so I could be rested up when we land. That way I can have some energy for all that lay ahead of me. I need to set up my new apartment, get my dual citizenship from Spain, plus an id, a cell phone, a calling card. Busy, Busy, Busy. There will tons of work for me to take care of. And all I listed was the personal stuff, not even the stuff I am getting paid for. Everything will settle down when I am settled in. It’s getting hard to keep my eyes open, so good night Tams. I will write to you again as soon as the chance arises. I promise you that.
You’re Sister with Love,
Samantha
Remember the trouble we got ourselves into in high school. You convinced me to play hooky so would could say we did it when our kids asked us. I gave into the request as usual but we both knew my motive was Claude, the French exchange student with the beautiful accent. I can still remember his smoky brown eyes and soft black hair. They way he laughed as we pranced around in the mall in sailor moon costumes. He was 17, I was 14. His lips pressed against mine after you “mysteriously” disappeared. What I thought would be awkward turned out to be a pleasant first kiss. This budded into a pleasant first relationship with a neat end at the end of his term. You marveled at “the businesslike manner” in which I handled the breakup. I told you I knew the terms when we started to date. We both knew he had to go back to France. He was an exchange student after all. You cried at the airport as we said goodbye to him. You were always more emotional than me. I am reserved, only allowing emotion to show on paper and of course when talking to you.
I never told you I cried the first night he left. I felt too foolish to reveal that the inevitable hurt me. I wish I could tell you now. That I could turn over to the seat next to me and you are there instead of it being empty. I would say ‘hey you remember Claude.’ You would widen you gray eyes in a way that said duh without word and laugh. Then I would tell you, you would probably tell me that you knew. Somehow that comforted me, the thought that the one secret I kept from you, you knew. It was an empty comfort; it lasted about as long as a second and then the ache returned.
Ever since you have gone Tammy everything we have done together, basically my whole life, has been playing like a movie in my head. You telling me in the second grade how you thought my chocolate brown hair was prettier than yours. Then in fourth grade when you defended me to a bully who said only freaks have oak colored eyes. In sixth grade when you made me look up eye shapes only to marvel that it revealed that I had hooded eyes. I always thought it was funny that you thought I was so beautiful. You never seemed to notice you own brilliant beauty. The way your hair refused to be straight, or how your dimples framed your lips perfectly. You refused to acknowledge that guys thought you were pretty. Always shying away from the attention you would receive.
How you would use your curls to block your face as you laughed, I knew it was because you thought your smile was ugly. A notion placed in your head by a jealous girl in the eighth grade, one that stuck with you for the rest of your life. I also knew you had no idea how beautiful you looked through that curtain of red. How boys would tell me that in those moments they wanted nothing more than to hold you and to hear your laughter forever. I am sure if that jealous girl saw you hidden behind your hair she would have wished that she kept her mouth shut.
I can’t remember the last time I laughed Tammy. Before your death, I knew that much. It feels like years, but really you have only been gone two months. I am still not used to it. I am hoping that moving somewhere new will help ease the pain a bit. That it will somehow make life more bearable. I am worse than ever now, all work, no play. I guess by Jane’s standards, that makes me a dull girl. I lost contact with the friends we made. I have even been talking to our moms less, especially your mom, I know my pain can never compare to hers. Your dad has gotten ill since your death; my dad says he can’t lose someone else he loves. I couldn't lose you but that sentiment didn't matter when your heart stopped. I still lost you, and there is nothing anyone can do about that. I have no one to talk to about my feelings Tammy. So I will keep talking to you like I always have, knowing you will never again hear me. I like to think I know…knew…know you well enough to hear your response in my mind.
Well Tammy, I should attempt to sleep so I could be rested up when we land. That way I can have some energy for all that lay ahead of me. I need to set up my new apartment, get my dual citizenship from Spain, plus an id, a cell phone, a calling card. Busy, Busy, Busy. There will tons of work for me to take care of. And all I listed was the personal stuff, not even the stuff I am getting paid for. Everything will settle down when I am settled in. It’s getting hard to keep my eyes open, so good night Tams. I will write to you again as soon as the chance arises. I promise you that.
You’re Sister with Love,
Samantha