Dear Hinda

The following is a letter a friend of mine found while rummaging through a random public computer at school. Being the avid supporters of schadenfreude that we are, she kindly passed this onto me.

Now, it's not the fact that this guy is trying to get into the pants of some girl on the other side of the country that's embarassing. It's also not the fact that he says such touching things like: "...besides making me want to pimp ho’s and carjack somebody, you bring out some other excellent qualities in me...." Or that he extols such wisdom as: "Everyone I meet teaches me something. Some people teach me how to do things, some people teach me how not to do things."

It is the level of commitmment he puts into it. In order to write something this schmaltzy, this cheesy and this grammatically incorrect, one must have no sense of self-awareness. Or, be head over anus in love. It's sickening, really. But you can just tell that this guy's heart is pinned roughly to his sleeve with a safety pin and gum, bleeding all over his Ecko sweatshirt. I hate to admit it, but I almost admire his ability to so thoroughly puss out in the span of one "like letter." If only I had a heart, eh?

Anygay, below is the letter in its entirety, bad punctuation and all. Read it and try not to jack off with your tears later tonight.

Dear Hinda,
forgive me for not calling to tell you this. I don’t think the
phone would give me all the time I need to say what I want to say, and
since I had such difficulty expressing myself the night before you
left, I figured I’d try a different approach here 
But don’t be scared. There’s nothing in this letter that will
scare you. I will try to make it as funny as the one I left for you in
New York but there are only so many drawings I can make of your big hair
(insert drawing I love nytshirt).
Do you remember when I said I studied everything about you in a
couple of hours? I was being completely truthful. I have an eye for
detail and a spectacular memory. I always have. I remember exactly what
your hands look like, how your toes are just a little spaced apart from
one another so that they don’t quite touch, and I remember the precise
way you sat on the futon hugging your knees with your arms---you
reminded me of my sister then. I picked all that up in the first twenty
minutes!
What took me a little longer to notice about you was that you
are a complete woman. it was only as we were walking along the river
tossing the apple back and forth that I saw how everything about you
comes together. And I don’t pretend to know you that well, but I think
what I saw in you was real. Do you know what I mean? How do I say this
without sounding ridiculous? Well, being in your presence that
afternoon made me realize what it is like to be completely aware of
another person and at the same time forget about myself. It was a rare
and beautiful feeling. Maybe it was the AA meeting that gave us a
little high or maybe it was the sunshine…I don’t know and I don’t care.
All I know is that afternoon I felt like I really connected to you.
And that is the most amazing thing about life–interacting with
other human beings. Everyone I meet teaches me something. Some people
teach me how to do things, some people teach me how not to do things.
But everyone teaches me something.
From you I learned to live in the moment. Truthfully, it’s all
we have. Sometimes I look into the future and sometimes I look into the
past, and when I do either of those things I miss the absolute beauty
of the present. And yet the present is difficult because it demands
that I be honest. The past and the future allow me to create scenarios
that may not have happened or that may never happen. Living in the
moment does not allow this. And being honest is hard because
sometimes it’s the dream of the past or the dream of the future that I
really like to chase.
Of course you already know that you bring out the gangsta in
me. But I also want you to know that besides making me want to pimp
ho’s and carjack somebody, you bring out some other excellent qualities
in me as well. Basically, you’ve encouraged me to be a better
communicator, and I’ve decided to pay you back with some truly honest
words.
And that’s why I’m writing. I’d love to come to san diego to
see you but I can’t come out if you are in a relationship. You might be
saying, “Who invited Christian to San Diego anyway?” I did. I invited
myself. And as much as I’d love to see you I don’t think it would be
healthy for either or us if I came out there while you were dating
someone. I don’t say that because I want something physical to happen.
I have plenty of bitches here in NY for that. I say that because I like
you. There. You heard it. Hinda N----, I like you.
Now don’t get teary-eyed. this is not a love letter. This is
a “like” letter. The “like” letter always comes before the love letter.
And sometimes after the love letter comes the hate letter, but not all
the time–thankfully. So stop laughing already, I’m trying to be serious
here!
Now I don’t dare look too far into the future. You’ll have to
use my big bald head for that. But if I take a little peek into the
past I see that we had a lot of fun and all I want is to try and do it
again. You know my motto: Let’s do it. Well, I have another one: Let’s
do it again.
So I don’t know what you’re going to think of all this but I
had such a great time with you here in New York that I would regret not
telling you, or worse, not telling you that I want to see you again.
Life is short, we have to take risks. Being honest with you is risky
but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.
Like I said before, I have no idea what the future holds but
it’s not in my nature to sit back and wait to find out. Everything I
ever wanted out of life I had to go out there and get. Beuatiful women
don’t just come knocking on my door. Well, not all the time. Sometimes
they get the key from the cleaners and let themselves in.
I know we joked about me not making a move….well, now I’ve made
one.
Write back.


Oh, I'm totally going to.