To Ida,
Every single time I come in the library, I get this weird sense of pride. Or maybe it's just the death metal butterflies. Possibly some invisible macho man tough guy attitude that I didn't realize I actually had until three seconds ago. I don't know yet.
I try to pep talk myself into sparking some sort of friendly conversation with you. The entire day, that's all I can think about. But then, I remember that I have the social skills of a chicken nugget and really should not take my chances.
Love only comes around every so often. And when it does, it strikes like a poisonous snake and kills you with its venom. Or, if it's a really mean snake, it will wrap around your veins tighter, tighter, and constrict until there is nothing left to circulate life through you anymore.
I can't tell which kind of snake you are. I hope you are one of the nice snakes that the lady at the pet store shows you how to hold, because I did that one time and didn't drop the snake and he didn't kill me, so I might be able to handle that.
(Let's not talk about the fact that I was screaming and crying because I was four years old and I was holding a snake.)
You make me so nervous. Every time I glance up in your direction, I blush and I think my knees go kind of limp like cherry Jello that was left in the sun for about two hours too long on the Fourth of July.
(Or maybe I don't do those things because that makes me sound like a total wimp which I am not.)
I'm so screwed. You are seriously messing with my head. I just want to clunk myself on the forehead with the heavy wooden alarm clock that sits on my nightstand and ticks no matter what and keeps me awake into the the late hours of the night because it won't shut up. Because maybe I could escape the tsunami of my thoughts of you that constantly drown my brain every waking hour, minute, second.
The clock ticks on.
On.
On.
On.
On.
I can't sleep.
Maybe, one of these days I'll work up the courage to talk to you and I'll ask you what you're reading. Maybe you'll smile your gorgeous smile and laugh your Christmas morning laugh. And we'll talk about all the books we've read.
But until then, thank you for the book recommendations.
I loved them.
From, Rio
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Ida
Short StoryFive letters written while Ida distracted Rio from his homework. She never received them as that was never the plan. Rio folded the letters away into five different books, knowing that Ida would never find them. They never spoke, but their story liv...
