Casa del John

Hey there, Delilah…

Yeah, I did it this time. Couldn’t resist. I know that song’s not usually my thing and all, but I listen to it and think about what might happen when I’m traveling somewhere. I can sort of see myself saying it.

“Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?
I’m a thousand miles away, but, girl, tonight you look so pretty.
Yes, you do. Times Square can’t shine as bright as you.
I swear it’s true.”

Only, it’d probably be like… what’s it like in San Fran? I’m stuck in Seattle, etc. Or whatever. Maybe I should learn how to play guitar or something so I can leave you little songs like this. I guess you could say it’s kind of on my mind for some reason. I don’t know why.

Maybe because I’m getting used to the way things are. Maybe ‘cause I spend a lot of time with you when you’re not with Uncle Robin. Maybe because I’ve never thought I’d be the kind to deck a girl in the middle of the kitchen because I had to have her right there and then. I still remember the way that one vase broke when it fell off the table. And I remember not caring about it breaking, not even when I cut my finger sweeping it up.

Maybe ‘cause you closed the wound for me.

Who knows? I’m stuck in this weird position right now of knowing I’m feeling things a lot more adult than I normally think and knowing I’m too young to reason through all of them. There’s no real instruction manual or cheat codes to feelings and I guess sometimes I wonder if I’m getting ahead of myself thinking the things that I do. I guess I’m kinda standing on a ledge here writing this all, but I can’t focus on class and I don’t care about it anyway. Hopefully the prof just thinks I’m taking extensive notes.

Delilah… the other night, when I almost said something to you and stopped… You asked me what I was going to say and I said, “Nah, it’s just something silly.” Well, it wasn’t something silly. It was actually something pretty serious. I don’t know how you’ll take this but… I love you. And I wanted to say that so much, but I wasn’t sure of myself. Not that, you know, I doubt myself, but I didn’t know if I should be saying this while handing you roses or something like that.

Maybe I’ll buy a few roses to leave with this note.

Anyway, I love you. I do. I don’t want to think about being a thousand miles away from you, but I kind of know it’ll happen someday and I don’t want it to happen tomorrow without me saying this to you. I spent a lot of time asking myself how somebody knows something like this for sure and Lydia told me that me even asking says something. People usually say the first person you say you love is something called puppy love, but this doesn’t feel like how they describe it.

It feels like that kind of love people write poetry about. I wish I knew how to do it like Dad does, but I’m totally not the poetry type. But I guess I know why he writes those poems for Victor and stuff, because I feel like I could do it right now. I like sleeping with you and all, but I also like holding you and I think that says something, too. I wish I could do it all the time, but I respect you and Uncle Robin and know he feels the same way about you.

I don’t know what people normally do about this sort of thing, but I don’t think many people fall in love with vampiresses, so I don’t know what rules apply and what ones don’t. I feel like I always want to have a piece of you to carry with me, and like I want you always to have a piece of me to carry with you. I sit up sometimes thinking about the future and calling you from where I am. Sending you notes. Being glad when I come back home and spending hours talking to you about the shit going on wherever they send me.

I’m still learning a lot about all of this as time goes by, but the more I think about it, the more it’s true.

I love you, Delilah. I want you to know I always will, too.

Class is over. I think I’m going to go out and buy a guitar now.
John

Hey Delilah,

First of all, I gotta admit, I just had to fight against the urge to begin this “Hey there, Delilah” and now that song’s playing in my head. *chuckles* Ah well, here goes nothing.

I’m sitting in the middle of 19th Century Lit, which made me wonder if you ever read some of these books… which made me wonder if you ever met some of these people. Which… is kind of a trippy thought to me. You, like, brushing shoulders with Charles Dickens or something like that.

Alright, alright, I’m completely not paying attention in class. Because I’m still sort of thinking about last night. And, to be honest, I woke up thinking about it. I almost played my music a little louder again and took a few extra minutes in the shower to think about the concert and everything else that followed. I thought it was pretty funny how that one guy knocked into you and blinked when you didn’t budge.

I also really like when you climbed onto my shoulders and cheered at the band.

Your hair smelled really nice when you leaned down to kiss my cheek.

I don’t really know why it’s important for me to say all that.

Maybe because I’m afraid you think I just liked what we did in the car and that’s it. Not that I didn’t. That was… so fucking incredible, I don’t have words for it. I know you’ve probably been with a lot of guys by now, but I haven’t ever been with a girl that makes me feel half the way you make me feel. Yeah, I mean that with the sex and all, but it’s not just that and I know it’s not just that. I just don’t know how to explain it right now.

You’re the first woman I’ve ever wanted to hold like that and I don’t know why I couldn’t stop kissing you, but I couldn’t. Your lips felt good on mine. Kind of like there was something else there and for the first time I could kiss a girl without immediately thinking about wanting to fuck them. Which, for me, is saying something. Not that I’ve slept with a lot of girls, but that whole thought seems to spring up pretty quickly.

I guess that statement could be taken two ways, huh? *grins*

Anyway, you’re the first girl I’ve had these other thoughts and feelings with and I had to write it all out. I’m not even sure I’m going to give this note to you, but something tells me I should. You’re probably going to notice it anyway. How many times I’m gonna let you bite me and how many times I’m gonna hold you after sleeping with you. I’m sure these things send signals, so I might as well tell you that I… like you. A whole lot. I’m not sure what that means right now, but for some reason, I kind of wanted to say that to you.

Class is almost over. I should probably close my laptop and get ready for jogging over to the computer lab and daring myself to print this.

It’s too bad you can’t come out during sunlight. I wouldn’t mind meeting with you at the coffee stand along the way.

See you later,
John