What a weird world we live in, that I can just send you a message through the air like magic. It probably won’t work, you won’t see it in your junk folder, or it’s not even really you. I feel worse than silly sending this to a perfect stranger, but I have nothing to lose in love these days. I read that you sometimes write back, and that you like to use an old typewriter. I like that idea, the feel of something old but full of potential, with a history of words and stories and life. One needs to apply more push, put a little more love into it, just to make the words; I want to feel that, those words, your core. Desiring you will write back via email; though I would love to get something I can actually touch. I do love an old fashion man.
Tomorrow is here and I want you to keep reading me, we met briefly. Just sort of, we didn’t get each others names, or touch. Were we under the eaves at the Wine Cask, foreheads together, or was it the Coral Casino dripping wet with new love? I am getting ahead of myself. I wrote you a letter, based on our brief exchange and also my sons words. It will make more sense when you read my letter. It is on my WordPress, Marie Scott: https://marieswriting.wordpress.com/ under #Left Hand Free, in Santa Barbara wine country, it’s romantic comedy, or just smut. Please tell me, was it a Margerum pinot gris, or Naughty Little Hillsides, instead? I do love them both green grass tart, tasting young like firm grapes.
There are other pieces there, that I wrote with you in my head, but really there is only one to you, from me. I am trying to put something together, a book, a new chapter in my life. Not sure exactly, but I am using a pseudonym. A nom de plume, because it would hurt too much, too many, and I don’t want to air it all through the vines. People get uncomfortable, need to be protected, the innocent and guilty alike. What I wonder, is if you would correspond with me? Wouldn’t it be good, if you were to write back, from the perspective of Kind Wine-Caddy? Maybe I am asking too much, I realize, and I am sure there are personal artistic license-issues-whatever, I have no idea about. But I would also just like to feel your words, if you would be so gallant?
I am just starting to write, like for real. It is something I have thought about for a long time, I am finally letting go of the things that have stopped me prior. I am under no illusion that it is all Tiny Bubbles and lemon trees at the gate, or that my imaginings of you are reality. But I do know that sometimes it is easier to talk to a stranger. I was telling my friend the other day, whom I haven’t found the courage to tell the specifics of my writing, that the start of this process for me, feels like butting up to my own insanity. I am so far inside my own head, reality and emotion get blurry, but it is this same place that has allowed me to make some really sober realizations about my own relationships. Are you He? Please be, read and write back.