June 29, 2013

Dear Friend,

Hi. It's nice to meet you, I think. I can't be sure, I guess because I don't really know you. I'm going to write you these letters, a lot. Summer just started and my friends are too busy to have an actual conversation with me. Lately, we can only get passed the first few messages before the conversation dies.

You see, I got the idea to write these letters from a book called The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It was made into a movie starring one of my favorite actors, Logan Lerman. He plays a high school freshman who writes letters that start with "Dear Friend," like these do. He changes everyone's names so he can't be found, finishing the letters with "Love Always, Charlie" so I'm going to do that too. You'll never know my name and you'll never find me, but you'll learn about me. I hope that's okay with you. Charlie, that's what he changed his name to, is from over twenty years ago. His letters are from 1991 to 1992. Mine are from 2013 to whenever I can't write them anymore. You won't know my real name, so you can call me Marisol.

I'm not doing much right now, but I feel very lonely, and so very tired. I'm tired of feeling so lonely. So I'm glad I can talk, well write, to you. It's very early in the morning, as in two hours ago it was yesterday. I'm lonely, I'm tired, I'm sleepy, and someone just texted me.

Earlier, as in at 11:12pm, I texted my friend. She texted my back two minutes ago at 1:08am. I had texted her to call me. Her response: it's too late now :c

She's always so spacey but I like her, she's a good friend when it counts. Let's call her Vic.

I asked her what she wanted to be called and she chose Vic. So, she's Vic. It's a guy's name and I'm not too fond of it, but it is her choice and I don't like to make them feel the way I usually do.

Now that I'm alone, almost every day until school starts again, I usually feel really empty. Alone, tired, and numb. That's me.

Vic feels sick. She says she's dehydrated and ugh. My eyes hurt. The eye lashes are soft though. I like that.

In September I, unlike Charlie, won't be starting my freshman year of college. I just wrote college by accident. Let me try again. I, unlike Charlie, won't be starting my freshman year of high school. I'll be starting my sophomore year of high school.

Vic will be starting her junior year. We met at cheerleading tryouts in, I think, November. One day, after that day, we just stated talking a lot and we became really close friends.

My older brother David just came in and told me to go to sleep soon. He always tells me what to do. He's seventeen. He recently got a job a McDonalds somewhere. We live in Flushing, Queens.

I have another brother, he's three right now. We can call him Frances. I don't like either of my brothers much. I'm fourteen right now. I'll turn fifteen in the fall. I want to have a sweet sixteen, even though a quinceanera would be traditional with my Hispanic background.

I'm supposed to go see a movie with my friend Lily, we plan to go see Despicable Me 2. I'm not so lonely when she's around. She's sarcastic and she's a rough and tumble kind of girl, but she's funny, sweet, smart, helpful, head strong, and a lot of other great things. Waiting until Wednesday to see her won't be fun. I don't like being so lonely. I usually spend all of my time in my room. But now I have something to look forward to. I like going over to see her. She lives in a really nice house. It feels like a home. Her grandparents live with her, her parents, and her two brothers. Well, her two brothers share a room but they're 19 and 22 so I don't know if they live there.

My home … my house is a small, two bedroom apartment. My parents split the living room in two and they sleep on one side, divided by wooden screens. My older brother took the master bedroom. I got the room that looks out onto the courtyard. It's smaller and cramped but I like it because I can talk to my friends through the window when they're outside and I'm stuck inside.

I don't feel well, so I'm going to text Vic a bit more then go to sleep. I'll write more soon.

Love Always,

Marisol