Dear R.P.H. (Letter 5)

I’m transcribing a series of handwritten letters I wrote, but never sent. Read the previous letters here.

Dear R-

I want your opinion. I want to know what you’re thinking. I want to know if you felt about me at all. I want to interact with something real after what feels like three months of fake. How much did you fake for me? You know what? This is stupid. I shouldn’t even care. It shouldn’t even matter. I can’t stop myself. I sat there and had to say to myself again and again, “you left me, you don’t want me anymore. I shouldn’t contact you.”

That parting note, “talk to me anytime.” It was conciliatory. You didn’t mean it. It was a line. Do you have someone new? Is that why you left. It feels like you never talked to me first unless you were drunk. Why did your inhibitions have to be lowered to talk to me? Did I not tell you I liked you enough? Was this because I didn’t share? I can’t really share, it’s just not in me. Please don’t let that be the reason.

Did you think I wouldn’t go with you if you found someone new and better? You left me alone! You knew how much it means to me to share anything personal. Or maybe you didn’t. Maybe you’re the fool I always tried to pretend you weren’t. A high, drunk, fool, who rescued me anyway. No. I rescued myself. I just wanted a crutch, once in life. I’m whining now. To no one. I’ll never end this feeling. I hate you. I miss you. I’m lonely. I can’t stop staring at your picture. I’d bet anything you jacked off to mine.

You know, I know you did. You asked for the pictures. Did you tell me your fantasies on purpose? Was that an intimacy? Or were you bragging? Trying to impress me. Trying to put your will on me. I would’ve done it for you, you know. Just because you asked. God I’m pathetic.

I don’t have two feet to stand on. I look down and I’m surprised they’re there. I just wanted your time. This better not be that one great love I’m supposed to get. That doesn’t even make sense. I’m so weirdly superstitious.

If I wrote you now, it would be two lines – that’d be it. It’d have to be tech related too. It’d be short. I’d probably say, “hey, I’m thinking about you.” Or, “I thought about you, because.” Because I always needed a because to talk to you. I never just could. I was never strong enough. I could never just send you me. Though, you asked three times. I must’ve been so boring to you. You wouldn’t even recognize me now.

Maybe I’ll let you know if I’m back in your city in the spring. I’ll say, “let me see if we work.” You’d say, “God you’ve gotten fat.” You’d look at me like you didn’t understand. You never got me. You only liked me because I singled you out – of all the boys – I liked you.

We made together. Me and you. It made me better, did you know? I think you installed AE for me. Maybe that’s the nicest thing you ever did for me. Other than almost call me your girlfriend. The time you called me beautiful, you were lying. I know it. You know it.


11 thoughts on “Dear R.P.H. (Letter 5)

      1. Kurt Struble

        i hate classically pretty women, they’re a drag and they make me puke !… just kidding!

        what the hell is classic beauty anyway and why have the commercials on t.v. taken you in so sadly?

        who cares about classic beauty when you can be beautiful which it seems you are …

        i can tell by the words you use … sad and sweet with melancholy a well of love you’ve often given that hasn’t been returned.

        classic beauty means nothing, there is no definition … all that matters is that you look inside of those who say they love you madly to know if it is real or an attempt to steal away life’s most precious gift. hey! before you give the gift of your sweet beauty make sure he is deserving …. take a good hard look inside him … don’t be afraid to slap his face and tell him to get the fuck out! oh! … sorry again! jeeze, i’m bad.

        don’t ever forget … humility is the essence of beauty. what is the essence of being classically pretty? nice skin?

        be strong. look hard. love is hard to find. mostly it’s a stumble, a flicker of light in a tunnel, a torrent of music on a rainy day walking, a glimpse of glowing embers, the turning of a head, a face suddenly seen eyes beaming, a tender kiss, a shoulder from the cold, an arm around your waist, you’re NEVER left behind when walking and if so … turn and walk away … you were mistaken .. make him beg for your forgiveness … if he cares … you are NOT bad plankton you are the mystery of the sea … beyond beauty for all to see … a well of sweet love to give if treated properly … the essence of beauty … can’t you see? change your name! you ARE the name you give yourself. stop writing those letters … they only make you feel worse! tell us s story of beauty from your childhood, the source of all that is real .. get in touch with Little Monster Girl … tell her i sent you. she’ll tell you what is real … and what is an allusion …. k

        1. some bad plankton Post author

          Thank you for your lovely note. I love the imagery of listening to music while walking on a rainy day. That’s super nice.

          I should have thought of dating these letters. The whole series was completed a while ago. They don’t necessarily ‘get better’ but they evolve a bit.

          As regards my name, it’s a reference to the movie Heathers, which has special meaning for me. Though, I’m sure, confuses many a visitor.

          1. Kurt Struble

            ohhhhhhh …….. ok. after i saw your beautiful drawings i thought maybe the letters were part of a longer satirical piece.

            i often give up after reading posts that lament relationships gone bad. it’s not the lamenting. it’s the ENDLESS lamenting which can be justified i suppose because there are a lot of guys/men who fuck women over pretty badly.

            after looking at your drawings and getting the humor of ‘me me me’ … i thought maybe i didn’t ‘get’ the subtle implications.

            like, not wanting to stick with “bloodline” but sticking with it anyway then finally ‘getting it’, understanding it and really liking it. (Bloodline on Netflix?)

            then i looked a the shrimp with the sunglasses and i thought jeeze … that’s funny and clever … that’s when i realized maybe it WAS a satire.

            so … i hate to be a know it all about anything .. don’t you hate freeking ‘know it alls’? but i felt i had to say something especially after you said you didn’t have classic beauty … .

            i’m totally confused now. my swimming pool is full of green algae because of all the rain we’ve been having here in southwest florida. before i throw in another five gallons of chlorine, i’m going to jump in then let the algae dry and re-reading all of the posts and look at the drawings. maybe i’ll understand.

            wull … i’m glad you enjoyed the imagery. i’m often inspired by posts i read and write really great comments. in fact, the only time i write a comment is if i am inspired. signed: Confusingly Inspired … (aka ks)

            i’ll try to see the movie … ks


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