#letter 5

Is it weird that from the things you mentioned about yourself I see my 20 year old self in you? And I only turned 23 last month so it's not like it's been too long. I'll tell you a silly and apparently meaningless story from a usual day in college.

It was my second year of college and I had a few hours to kill between my lectures and some stupid committee meeting of a college club I was a part of. So I headed to the library and started reading the book I was reading back then - Tell the wolves I'm home by Carol Rifka Brunt. Now, time for some context. I was in a commerce college - one of the best in the country - where everyone was obsessed with becoming a Chartered Accountant. You know how it is. So even though our library had a decent fiction collection, 99.99% people who ever sat there only studied. Either for college exams or for their Chartered Accountancy exam. It was like our college was under an everlasting spell of wanting to clear those exams and get into the big four accounting firms. And when I had started college, I was one of them. However a year after I realized that that wasn't the kind of life I wanted to live so I made the decision to let it go.

So, now I was that girl in college who sat in the library and read fiction. That particular day, there was a girl sitting across me studying. Of course, for Chartered Accountancy exams. And she saw me read my fiction book and asked me which subject was I studying that for. I told her – none. She didn't speak for a minute. She asked me again. So, wait, what subject requires you to read this book? I was like no, this isn't my course material. I am reading it for pleasure. She looked at me with such a shocked face. I wanted to laugh. She told me how I was the first person she had ever seen in the library doing something other than studying for some exam. And just sitting there for leisure. I told her the choices that led me to that. And she smiled and said that not everyone is brave enough and carried on studying. She added me on Facebook later that day though we never spoke again. I hope she's doing well and was brave enough to make whatever choices she truly wanted to. Now, the point of dragging on this story from my past, Anirudh, is that I know that feeling. Of people looking at you and seeing something they don't understand. It would torment me when I was younger. But now it only makes me smile with relief.

As for studying...I'll be the first one to tell you that it's not as important as everyone hypes it up to be. I got 94.6% in my 12th ISC board exams. And a 100/100 in Economics. I was what they called a 'bright' student. But let me tell you this...once I graduated college my marks got me nowhere. At work, nobody quite cares. I'm sure some job roles/industries might be the exception. But honestly, in the "real world" how street smart you are, how effectively you can communicate with people, how creatively you can solve problems and manage unforseen circumstances is what truly matters. And they don't quite teach any of that in school. So, yes, continue sketching and making music because it's only in creating art that you can go on in this insane world.

Love is trust at its purest form.

That statement hit me. How can you say that? Makes me wonder if you've ever been betrayed so badly that you stopped trusting your ability to have faith in people. Probably not. Then again, you perhaps have, and have yet not given up on love. In that case, I respect that. I am still not able to trust again but I try. I trust like 99% but that last 1% just doesn't happen anymore. However, I read this quote in the book Hippie by Paulo Coehlo and it just hit me hard. It went something like...people who trust others trust themselves. Because they know when they are betrayed - and everyone is betrayed - they can take care of themselves and they can be okay. I like that you trust yourself. I hope you always do. You seem like a smart guy who will always have his back and that of those he cares about. That's solid. And the world needs more of that.

About the girl from your college that you loved love, I'm sorry to hear it turned out the way it did. Again, it impresses me how you didn't let that turn you bitter. But that's right. You should just accept it and move on to love other people and other things because the world is wide and life is short and your heart has so much to offer. And as you said, once you've truly loved someone, it's impossible to unlove. Some part of you, in some way, will always love them. No matter how tiny or forgotten.

You lost things you deeply cared about. And that sucks. I'm not going to say otherwise. But again, you remind me of me at 20. That was the year I lost two of my dearest friends. I never have been able to have friendship like that again. It was a depressive phase and I was struggling a lot anyway (making that choice to drop everything I had worked so hard for by ditching Chartered Accountancy and following my confused heart). And instead of helping me out, they abandoned me.

So I went through excruciating pain. But I learned to be there for myself. You have no choice. When no one else is there you learn to be there for yourself. And not just to wipe tears or drag on through life but to make yourself smile and add joy to your life. I started going to self-dates. I started saying sweet things to myself when I looked at the mirror. Or funny things to make me laugh. I started dancing a lot when alone (dance isn't something I've ever been comfortable with but it's such a free expressive state). I started knowing myself. And all of this might sound extremely cliché. And I'm sure you already know all of this. As I said, you seem like a smart person. But I'm saying all of this anyway is because sometimes we need someone, who's been through similar things, to let us know that eventually, we will be okay. And that this isn’t permanent but neither will that. Nothing ever is and I’m still trying to figure out if the impermanence of everything is a blessing or a curse. Either way, it’s a fact.

You're a 20 year old youth and it gets better. It also gets worse in different aspects. But that's what adulting and life is about I think. You experience it in waves.  Easy and hard, beautiful and miserable, loving and lonely. It’s all in waves. And just have to learn to surf. I hope you learn surfing soon. Makes the whole thing exhilarating at least! Also teaches us balance. Like in actual surfing, to stand up on the surf board when in water while balancing your body requires a lot of core strength, to balance all aspects and emotions in life requires core strength too…just of a different kind. And I for one know that you, Anirudh, will find it. You will build it.

All my love,

Nikki

Guys, February is 29 days of love letters. I’m writing love letters, as part of The Love Project, and if you’d like me to write one to you, drop me an email at [email protected]

Received April 5, 2002

AO3 link

Master Post

Ravenclaw tower, floor of the common room

Hi Lily,

Luna did not exaggerate at all when she told you about Ravenclaw tower, it is the best place ever! Even better than WWW or the Burrow, and I am not sorry at all to say that a big part of my writing today will be a rant about Ravenclaw.

I’ll start with the spiral staircase leading to the bronze knocker, which is hell and way too long. If I hadn’t been reading all about the global obesity epidemic last christmas I would have demanded an escalator to be installed. The thing has more than one hundred steps! It’s pure torture!

Then, when you’ve finally mounted the stairs you reach the knocker and it asks a riddle. So far I haven’t found one I couldn’t solve yet but I think it changes in difficulty depending on who wants to enter. It’s a nice confidence boost anyway.

The common room is totally worth the trouble even when you do need to wait hours before you can enter. The ceiling always depicts the night sky and so does the fluffy carpet on the floor that cleans itself and is amazing to lie down on and write (as I am doing now). Despite the dark sky the room is still very light with arched windows and couches that manage to be both perfect for studying and for sleeping.

I think some of my housemates sleep in the common room more often than the dorms, which is weird considering how amazing they are. Queen size beds, desk with a view, a personal extendable set of shelves… It is heaven. My theory is that Rowena Ravenclaw made our dorms extra comfy because otherwise we would never emerge from the library again. At least I know I wouldn’t. It is like my mothers library but bigger and better and maybe a little bit less illegal (not much though).

I do miss my mother. I miss my dad too of course, but at least he was at the platform to see me off. I forgot to tell you but my mom wasn’t. Another department head went into early labour and the Chinese minister of magic was visiting so she had to leave. I understood that of course, but still, I missed her goodbye hug.

Now I need to end my letter because one of my new friends is hugging me to death after reading over my shoulder (Rude Flint, Rude! Never heard of privacy?). Apparently getting hot chocolate when you’re sad is mandatory here.

Still with the most love, Rose Granger-Weasley

Ps. Wow, just a little bit of love? How petty of you.

Pps. But I did won so I don’t care. What’s the love of a family worth compared to my giant victory anyway?

According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the definition of love is:

1 a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties

maternal love for a child

     (2) : attraction based on sexual desire :affection and tenderness felt by lovers

After all these years, they are still very much in love.

     (3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests

love for his old schoolmates

     b : an assurance of affection

give her my love

2 : warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion

love of the sea

3 a : the object of attachment, devotion, or admiration

baseball was his first love

   b (1) : a beloved person : darling—often used as a term of endearment 

      (2) British —used as an informal term of address

4 a : unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another: such as 

     (1) :the fatherly concern of God for humankind 

     (2) :brotherly concern for others

   b : a person's adoration of God

5 : a god (such as Cupid or Eros) or personification of love 

6 : an amorous episode : love affair

7 : the sexual embrace : copulation

8 : a score of zero (as in tennis)

9 : capitalized, Christian Science : god

— at love: holding one's opponent scoreless in tennis

— in love: inspired by affection

So... what is love? I guess it’s weird trying to solidly define something that’s become so subjective in modern times. Its meaning and significance changes with every writer, artist, and lover. 

Growing up in the environment I’m in, I was never taught or shown what romantic love is– or if I was, I had expected more and hadn’t noticed it at all. My city parades its devotion of the idea of love every year, and foreigners have a romanticized perception of what love is in a city such as mine. But to me, the confetti and vibrant hues don’t quite cover up the truth of how metallic and bleached my city, as well as its love, has become. So what is love? If it’s anything more than what the world has shown me, I never got to see it. My parents didn’t marry for love, and my relatives’ marriages seem more like business deals than emotional relationships. In my head, love had always been a concept snatched straight from the silver screen, but that in itself raised more questions than it answered. In the theaters, love is something passionate, but simple. Tumulus, but calm. Unattainable, but inescapable. Fought for, but meant to be. Won, but earned. Right, but wrong. 

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot more about “love” than usual. In all honesty, it’s probably sacrilege to even call what I feel love, when I have yet to learn what such a feeling is. For now, however, I will assume that it encompasses all that has been bothering me. And right now, love sounds more like a sacrifice than a gift. It sounds like giving up a part of yourself that you shouldn’t have to, (This entry didn’t develop quite as neatly or clearly as I had planned it to. Readers must be so confused right now– I still haven’t formed any solid argument, and at this point I don’t even know if I have one at all.) 

Accepting someone for the fact that they’re not all you had wished them to be, and deciding to be content with all you can offer to each other... settling down simply because they are enough... is that finally learning to love, or giving up?

My sweet Rey,

I should have known that you’d find some way to slip through my fingers, but I am not particularly discouraged. It can only be a matter of time, especially now that I know you have been relic hunting. I know what he’s after. Supreme Leader wants it too. But which of us will get to it first, I wonder? Perhaps we’ll see each other during the search :)

I enjoyed our duel immensely, yesterday. It was such a pleasure to cross sabers with you again, and this time, without the world falling to pieces around us. It really was just the two of us. There is something intensely intimate about our battles, don’t you think? So physical. So passionate. Focused only on each other, tense, sweaty, locked together in a frantic quest for climactic victory. My heart beats faster, just thinking about it.

I admit, I have been preoccupied by our mid-duel chat, and your allusions to some Force vision(s?) that I apparently featured in. From what little you told me, it sounds rather like a seduction of some kind. To be perfectly honest, I am dying of curiosity, but you apparently did not want to go into detail.  DYING, Rey. But I am too much of a gentleman to ask. Unless you want to tell me. I have no doubt that there is quite a bit of detail to be had, judging by the absolutely adorable blush on your cheeks when you spoke of it.

However, I do take exception to your accusation that I am somehow responsible for the behavior of this vision. Rey, I cannot teleport at will to and from some obscure seaside cave, nor can I control what a dream-version of me does. I assure you, I’d kick his ass for you, if I could! You know I would always defend your honor. But I know how those visions work - it’s only what you take with you. If you’re having seductive visions of me, then it sounds like you have some special feelings you should probably come to terms with…

Since it seems it will be a while yet before I have you at my side, I will resume sending you these small tokens of my affection. I noticed that you sustained a scrape on your left elbow, in yesterday’s commotion.  Enclosed is a little something to hasten your recovery.

Stuck on you like a bacta patch,

Kylo

PS. I would be more than happy to help you explore those special feelings further, should you so wish ;)

…………………..

Every time the phone rings, I hope it’s you

Each time a text comes through Whenever I see the notification pop up I feel my heart jump to my throat Hoping that it will be your icon.

Whenever anyone wants to contact me They find me disappointed and down For reasons they simply could not understand.

My heart is calming down again now A heavy sigh leaving my lips As I sink back into the chair Close the window, hang up the phone And delete the text saying I’m over my data.

You know, I used to pride myself on being able to keep my feelings separate from everything. I could hear songs and not associate them with the person they reminded me of, they were just songs. I could go places and not remember the last time I was there. The place where I got broken up with. The place where I tried to kill myself. The place where I cried. 

But I failed somewhere along the line. Because my playlist, the one I can’t listen to anymore because it’s what we listened to all summer. My favorite songs all remind me of you. Long car rides, camping trips, hiking, exploring. Songs we always listened to when stoned. Songs we sang along at the top of our lungs.