Mix Tapes » Luke Hemmings

mix tape eight

October 28, 1981

Seven days. That’s how long I waited to write you this abnormally boring letter again. Sometimes I wonder if you ever read them or listen to my mix tapes –because I spent days making these. But if you don’t I would understand, I wouldn’t want to read someone else’s letters either.

It’s just that there’s something about you which makes me feel either very happy and sad at the same time. Happy because you seem so reckless, so wonderful, lost in stereo. Sad because I’ll never be anyone else to you than ‘another name’.

Deep in my heart I hope you read those. I really hope –but if you don’t ; it’s okay.

My point here is that we all get a little lonely sometimes, and if I do; it helps me to write to you. You may not know a lot about me –but the truth is; I don’t either. There’s a lot about life that’s important; I just haven’t figured out what these things are.

I know who I want to be, I just don’t know who I am. I know what you are. Beautiful.

I’m sorry if that sounded creepy, I don’t want to come over as a creep. It’s just that I really find you beautiful. The way your nose is seemed to be carved out of gold and how they beautifully arch into your eyebrows.

The way you smile when a stranger bumps into you and excuses to you. I could have been that stranger- nevertheless, you wouldn’t  have noticed me. Beautiful people often don’t notice people like me. But that’s okay. I like it that way.

I’ve been rambling on and on again. I’m sorry. I hope this letter / mix tape will make your day any better and not worse.

                                                                                       Affectionately Yours,

                                                                                       Luke

She smiled. Yet another mix tape to enjoy. She grasped the small box and read the title. ‘Beautiful Stranger’ it was called. With a chuckle she threw it into her cassette recorder and played the first few songs.

After a song or three she recognised a familiar voice. It was his’. His voice told me about his life once more, and announced the last song with a chuckle. I couldn’t help but flutter my eyes close when I listened to him. His voice was a soothing lullaby.