Monday, January 9, 2012

Dear Nobody, Letter #2

"It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.."-Leonard Cohen,Hallelujah

8 January 2010

Dear Nobody,

I have neglected you for quite some time  now. Not for lack of anything to say,but rather not knowing which snippet of information would interest you most. I am afraid the subject of this letter is rather melancholy. I am writing to you about tears,a kiss,a Bible verse and a very significant cup of tea.

My day yesterday started much like any other. The sun did indeed rise and the dew was chased away as it's golden fingers brushed the grass. This I did not witness my own eye,as that eye,and,incidentally,the other,were both very firmly shut when the sun made its glorious appearance. Several hours later,I graced the world with my own presence. I spent a few meaningless hours on the world wide web. I conversed quite pleasantly to a very dear uncle of mine who shares my,and indeed first ignited,my passion for photography and blogging. I enjoyed some Belgium chocolate and more than one mug of coffee. I swept the floor quite vigorously and had a cup of tea with an old friend. To me the day seemed rather pleasant. And yet,somewhere quite far away,two very close friends of mine were tearing out one another hearts. At least,this is what my brain immediately thought when I received a text message on my cellular mobile phone from The Girl,saying she had shared a kiss with The Guy.

Why,you might wonder,is this such a tragedy? My dearest Nobody,if you are indeed out there,they do not love one another. The Guy claims to love The Girl,but The Girl feels quite the opposite. She was,in fact,in his presence to tell him exactly why she did nit share his his overly stated sentiments when he decided to take upon himself the privilege of bestowing on her he first ever contact of this nature. She was distraught;he was ecstatic. He appears to share the opinion of Mr.Collins of old who stated upon the rejection his unwelcome offer of marriage to Elizabeth Bennet,``I am not now to learn that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.''

After several phone calls to both parties during which I both raged and cried,I finally departed to my bed. I was filled with such negativity against The Guy that I shook with what I thought was righteous anger. I couldn't believe he had acted so thoughtlessly and was able to retell the tale with not a hint of regret. I opened my Bible to page where the frayed red ribbon rested against the worn pages. The very first line stopped me cold and doused out the fires of anger in an instant.

"Do not judge" the pages told me,"or you too will be judged." "You hypocrite!"my Bible told me. That I am. How often do we tear one another apart,accusing others of the very thing we ourselves are guilty of? Mere minutes earlier I had accused a very dear friend of not thinking before he acted and completely disregarded the feelings of another. Yet I myself do this several times a week,no,even several times a day,and still I enter a peaceful sleep each night with no feelings of regret or discomfort. Oh we are so disgustingly human. More than a few salty drops escaped from my eyes. There are times when I so badly wish I was not a part of this world. How pleasant and sweet I'd be if I lived alone on some mountaintop and never came into contact with another human being. In case you may have missed it,this,oh nobody,is what made my day taste of cold melancholia.

After my tears I made a cup of tea. This was no ordinary cup of tea. This was a cup of tea that could be served to the Queen of England,Tim Burton,my mother and other such exalted individuals. For this cup of tea,unlike the thousands before,was not made by a girl who would go about life just as before. No,this cup of tea was made by a girl who was moving on from her shame. As I drank that very cup of tea,I thought to myself,hallelujah. Not a loud,joyful hallelujah that would be found in a movie like The Apostle. Not the soulful hallelujah that worship leaders make into a ten syllable word. It was,as Leonard Cohen says,a cold and broken hallelujah. It was a hallelujah thanking my Dad in heaven,not for something wonderful that had occurred,but for something wonderful I know He will make occur in me.

So here we are. A girl filled with confused emotion,mourning the loss of something she can never get back. A boy in denial of the tragic reality of unrequited love. And yours truly,humbled by the realization of my own frailties,comforted by the knowledge that I will not face them alone. Where are you,dear Nobody? Because we are here. Hallelujah.

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