This first letter was, at the beginning, nothing more than an experiment, to see how long I could sustain an effort; I wanted a diary, but I didn't want to address my letters to a flat and unfeeling book. The only one I could think to address my letters was you-- you were first in my mind then, not so much now though still a cherished memory.
Dear Mary Angel,
I wonder if you think of me. I think of you almost every day and remember you with great fondness. Of course we both know why, and because of it I remember you still. I wish I had taken the time to get to know you better, because I would love to talk with you now. You were such a good listener...but you're probably not the same girl I knew. In fact, I know you're not. I'm not even the same person I was, and what you found attractive in me then you probably wouldn't think so attractive now. People change. I have, and will again. I wish I had not lost touch with you.
I wonder if you think fondly of me. I was very weak then, unsure of myself and looking to others for my identity [Funny thing is, they didn't even know who THEY were!], and in a lot of ways I'm still unsure of who I am except to say that I am Eric Lee Ashley and, as Bob Seger so aptly sang, "...still running against the wind."
Let me tell you about myself. I'm thirty-six and eleven months old. I've never married. In fact I've never come close-- I'm still running. Remember how you chased me? And I just ran and ran. A part of me still smiles to think of it, another part curses sulphurously. I was so shy of girls [Still am, though now they are women], and you chased me so very hard. I sometimes wonder if that was my one chance to find happiness. But that's silly! It's my own fault that I'm not happy.
I hate my job. I'm a manager at a restaurant that has long since seen it's day in the sun. The company itself is in decline and there's no room for advancement. The atmosphere of the place is beginning to smell the way St. Andrews bay sometimes did, seaweed drying in the sun and fiddler crabs scurrying about their one giant pincers brandished high in warning... "we may be poor, but watch out!" And I am miserable.
I've given my resume to a local company that I hope to be hired on with. The corporate office is located very close to where I live. Minerals and herbs are the company's business and I've acquired an interest in such things over the last few years. I just love the way I feel when I "take my vitamins" on a regular basis; almost as though I can do anything.
I know the owner of the company through a mutual friend and the owner suggested I submit a resume because he could "...make me rich." The offer was very tempting especially in light of the fact that I'm very unhappy with the direction my current career is taking me. It was two days ago that I took him my resume, but I've heard nothing yet. I'm almost willing to take a pay cut initially if it will lead to advancement and pay increases in the future, but when someone says, "I'll make you rich...," what is one to think? "Rich" is a hell of a lot more than what I am right now.
Well, It's late. 10:45, and way past my bedtime, seeing as how I have a twelve hour kitchen shift tomorrow beginning at 8am.
Think on me and I'll think on you...
All my love,
Eric
A simple enough beginning, and much more to come.
Till next time, and with love,
Eric
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