As I Write This Letter . . .

[bullfiddle]

So I was completing a writing prompt assignment tonight for Writers' Grope, and it really stirred up some things. The assignment was to write a letter to someone who had signed your high school year book and, since I can't find my high school yearbook, I had to go off my memory and in my memory the person that I would have treasured signing my

Comments

[outlawpoet]

I guess it depends on what you mean by duplicitous. I'm pretty sure most people had significant compartmentalization in their lives. Particularly when you're young, it's never clear to you when it's okay to say things, or if you want to.

It's been a thing of continuous interest to me, followup on old friends, especially learning things about them when I first knew them. One girl had a serious alcohol problem all through high school I never noticed somehow, some had hobbies that turned into jobs I never saw coming.

I've slowly come to stop compartmentalizing, although I've never gone back and retroactively filled everybody in, so occasionally somebody hits something I wrote or mentioned online and emails me stunned.

Did you send your letter?

[bullfiddle]

Nah, didn't send it. I wouldn't know where to even if I wanted to. It's also pretty poorly written-I got caught up in the message and didn't worry so much about the skill. Which I guess totally ruined the whole stupid exercise in the first place. But at least it stirred up some good old fashioned emotional trauma to wade through, right? Right?!
It's good to know I'm not a freak though I guess. Or that if I am, I'm in good company.