Sing to Me

Chapter 2

Once again, Delilah entered her apartment after the hour long bus ride from work, got the mail out of her mailbox, and went into her apartment. This had become a routine for her since she moved out of her parents' spacious brownstone in Manhattan 2 years ago and into her own cramped apartment.

She slipped her inch-high heels, placed her purse on the kitchen table, and proceeded to go through her mail. As usual, there was nothing but some bills. Just when she was about to throw the rest down, she came across another yellow envelope with hand-written words on it. It looked similar to the letter she received by mistake last week. She read the return address and it was from the same person: Valentin Cordero. She rolled her eyes and sighed, wondering why this man was still sending letters to this apartment when she wrote him a letter last week, making it very clear that the person he was looking for no longer lived at this address. When she read the address, she blinked a few times to make sure she was reading the name right: Delilah Jackson. He wrote her back? She thought it was strange that he wrote a response to her short letter, but she figured he was simply thanking her for letting him know that the person he was seeking had moved. She tore open the envelope, unfolded the letter, and began reading it.

Dear Ms. Jackson,

Thanks for telling me that Blanca moved. She never even mentioned to me that she was considering moving, so I assumed that my letter would reach her. I'm sorry my letter got mixed in with your mail. I don't know how it happened, but if it didn't, I would still be writing to Blanca and wondering why she never wrote me back. I still don't understand why she would leave and not tell me. We have an 10 year old son together and she keeps him so her family can help her with him. Because of my current living situation, seeing him was almost impossible. Writing her was the only way I could know how my son was doing. Without that, I have no way to know how he's doing, and that hurts me. I don't know if you have kids or not, but not being able to see or talk to my son hurts. Not knowing if I'll ever see him again kills me. Knowing he was doing well was one of the only things that made waking up in the mornings easier. Without that little bit of knowledge, getting out of bed seems like a punishment now. Knowing that the one who you loved and built a relationship with for 12 years vanished from your life makes opening my eyes in the morning feel like a death sentence. I feel so many different emotions, right now. Depression, anger, rage, emptiness are only a few. I just realized how much I've written and let out to a complete stranger. I'm sorry for wasting your time.

Valentin Cordero

Wow. That's the only thing Delilah's mind could register after reading his letter. He had said so much to someone he knows nothing about. She didn't know what to think of it. What to think of him. From what he said in his letter, Delilah thought of him as a lonely man; a man who kept a lot of his feelings to himself just because he had no one to talk to anymore. She didn't really pity him, she felt for him. She had a small sense of what he was feeling. She knew what it was like to not have someone to confide in, or just merely talk to. She didn't feel the emotions to the intensity at which he felt them, but she had felt a few of them to a lesser extent. If what she had experienced was horrid, she couldn't begin to imagine what Valentin was experiencing.

Walking to her room, she pulled out another lavender envelope, another piece of white stationery, and the same purple pen. She sat back down at the the table and proceeded to write.

Dear Mr.Cordero,

I have no kids and I can't begin to understand the pain you're feeling. I've never been in a relationship that last 12 months, nonetheless 12 years, but I've had my fair share of hurtful experiences, so I do understand where you're coming from. I can't tell you that things will get better, because I can't see into the future. I can, however, tell you that things can get better. Nothing good will come from depression and anger. Feeling pity for yourself will only drive you deeper into the dark hole you've already begun to dig for yourself. Tomorrow always guarantees something different from the day before. Whether that 'something different' is good or bad can't be known until tomorrow arrives and we wake up to experience it. I know life may seem dark right now, but there's always a light. The light may or may not come to you, so you have to be willing to go look for it. I can't stand it when people say "Good things come to those who wait." If you wait, you may miss every good thing that life has to offer. As spiritual or preachy as it may sound, you have to get up and hunt for the pleasures of life. Children play hide-n-seek because of the joy that comes from looking in every nook and cranny and finally finding one of their friends.

Sincerely,

Delilah Jackson

After signing the letter, Delilah glazed over the paper with a quick and soft blow to make sure the ink was dry before folding the letter and sealing it in the envelope with two swift licks. She addressed the envelope, stuck a licked stamp on it, and set it in her purse so that she could mail it off in the morning. She had the slightest idea as to why she was looking forward to mailing the letter, but nevertheless, she was anticipating tomorrow morning.