"The Letter" – The Second Envelope

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Registered: 12-20-2003
"The Letter" – The Second Envelope
Wed, 05-05-2004 - 2:36pm


Now, that you’re finally sitting down, I get to the logistics aspect of this letter. I have done A LOT of planning. Through the internet, I came across a guidebook which I hunted down in a bookstore. I located a quaint boarding house in a very small town (pop. 250) in a section of the country that is both boring and austere. I chose the locale for a combination of reasons: safety, distance from home, and (mainly) a physiography so stark that scenic beauty would not distract me in my goal to find myself. I called up the proprietor of the boarding house. She’s really a cool person. A 70ish spinster who’s a retired army nurse. I told her of my intention to stay there for several weeks, but no longer than a month. I also told her (in a general way) why I’m traveling out to (where she puts it) a remote place in "East Jesus." She volunteered several names and addresses of past boarders. I called 3 on a list of 10. All were highly complimentary of the accommodations, with the only bad comment being not to eat her meat loaf casserole.

What will I do there? Think. Take walks. Read. The town, however small, does have a library—and, thank God, it does NOT have a computer! I find it oddly amusing that I’m going to a place with no email/internet hookups so that I’m traveling to an unconnected place to get connected with myself. I look forward to having time for myself. Going to bed late at night, or even staying up all night. Coming and going as I please. Sipping tea in an arm chair in the parlor with Mr. Scumbag (that’s her cat) curling up at my feet. I intend to keep a diary. That will keep me focused. Although this is MY journey, what I write in the diary is about me AND you. If you wish, you can read the entries when I come back. Please don’t be worried about my safety. I AM a big girl, you know, and I DO know how to handle myself. I know what else you’re thinking. That maybe I’ll be unfaithful to you. I don’t think that will happen for that would defeat the entire purpose of the trip.

I will write you every other day. Not goddamned email, but real mail that you can touch and smell. You know that Mrs. Giles down the street? The one you always call the ‘retired schoolmarm from hell?’ Actually she’s a really nice person. I believe her when she said her husband was her soulmate (he passed on a few months ago). Anyway, she’s my confederate in this plan. She is the ONLY person in the whole world who knows where I am. You must believe this. Every other day I’ll put my letter to you in a larger envelope addressed to Mrs. Giles. When she finds my post in her lock-and-keyed mailbox, she’ll extract the letter inside and slip it underneath the front door of our house. Although you don’t have to write me, I would very much appreciate mail from you. In that case just write ‘Linda’ on the envelope and give it to Mrs. Giles who will then complete the address and send it on to me.

Honey, you’d be proud of the degree of planning I’ve done. In the dining room is a large packet complete with directions pertaining to such things as: school activities for Susie and Junior, washer/dryer settings, etc. I’ve taken an unpaid leave of absence from work. I dreaded seeing curmudgeonly Mr. Harris about my request, but the old sweetie told me that there’d be no problem. I think he values my work. The cost of the trip will wipe out the small nest egg I have in my hometown bank put there after the liquidation of my parents estate. Thus this trip won’t set us back financially.

Rest assured, I WILL COME BACK. You’ll see me in 2 to 4 weeks. You’ll have no warning of my return. That’s part of my plan, my fantasy. I may show up at the front door, ringing the doorbell. That’s the sound you do not want to hear for it means that when you open the door and look me in the eyes you’ll see that I’m not yours. Irrespective of your pleading, I will have resolved to seek an amicable divorce. We will live together until the annulment, and I will be a faithful wife to you during that interval. We will work out an agreement regarding the children. They’re strong kids. After the divorce, my intention is to move to a place I’ve never been before—both literally and figuratively. Apart from you who’ll share custody of the kids, I will totally leave behind all friends and acquaintances I met during our marriage. I truly would want to start with a clean slate.

Here is the positive scenario, the one a helpless romantic wants to embrace. Here goes… I realize that not only am I to have a soulmate, but that it was you all along. The bus ride back to bliss will allow me to concoct plans for our romantic get together. I’ll arrive in the my prey—you. You won’t see me, but I’ll see you. Then, when you least expect it, you’ll feel someone (that’d be me, silly) from behind grab "it" and whisper huskily in your ear: "Hi sailor, new in town?" I look forward to hearing how convincing you’ll be about your "I-just-came-down-with-something" excuse as you call the office from our hotel room whilst I have you in a very compromising position. And as I look into your eyes as you hang up the phone, I’ll know we’ll be seeing into each other’s souls until the very end.

With love, and hoping to still be in love with you,

Linda