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“Dear Friend,
Diversity is a highly under appreciated quality in today’s society. However, I am happy to be able to say that Seattle is not a close minded community; it remains very open to the manifold of nations, races, and creeds which inhabit it. Perhaps that is what inspires me so, living here. I am in search of my euphoria. From the moment I set foot in this city, I knew that it just may be the place for me.
When you were young, did you ever wish you knew where you belonged? I used to lay awake at night and hope for a great gust of wind to carry me off to that magical place in the sky.
Who am I? Have you ever read the poem, ‘I Am Woman’ by Mya Angelou? What a wonderful description of a woman’s diversity of character. I suppose the song ‘Bitch’ by Meredith Brooks is to the same effect, however, I am of the opinion that Mya’s poem expresses the notion with a bit more class.
I have a favorite place. Do you? Mine is on a small pier in Seattle. It is a perfect vantage point for viewing the sunset, and is, in fact, where I am writing you from. The water sparkles all shades of blue and green, lightly lapping at the pylons which hold the pier aloft. The sky’s intermingling cool colors set off the fading warmth of the orb placed low on the horizon. I love it here.
Do I ever wonder what could have been? Of course. Every day, sometimes more than others. I think it’s human nature to be unsatisfied. Rest at ease, you did not come off as ungrateful. You lead a high profile, influential life? What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking? I run a cafe of sorts, here in downtown Seattle. You’ll probably think it’s hackneyed, but we serve lattes, other coffee based beverages, and a modest menu. Malone, my best friend, helps me run the place. I have known Malone for years, and our friendship keeps getting better with time.
How about you, anyone special in your life?
I must end now, and say goodbye. It’s been a long day, and there are too little hours in the night. I still face a cold walk back to the loft, anyway. Please write again soon. I was so worried you wouldn’t before.
~Chemelyn”
She quickly sealed the envelope and stood from the bench to begin the short walk back to her loft. When Chemelyn reached the stoop to her building, she turned, and watched as the last rays of daylight faded behind the hills.
*****
Howie raked a hand through his hair, and lay down on his bunk. Once again, he was passing his time on the Backstreet tour bus, awaiting their arrival in a new city. Of their own violation, his thoughts turned toward Chemelyn. Though he didn’ t know much about her, let alone what she looked like, his heart and mind dwelt on her existence quite a bit. Her eloquent words and flowing script occupied his conscious like nothing else.
“Mail call!” a voice broke through Howie’s haze. A stack of letters were tossed on his stomach, curtosy of Brian. Howie eagerly reached for the pile, and thumbed through the envelopes, hoping for one in particular.
“Did it come?” Aj asked anxiously, flopping on the bunk next to Howie.
“What are you talking about Bone?” Brian inquired, not having been out of ear shot. Howie cast a dirty look AJ’s way, and continued looking.
“We’re waiting for a response from Chemelyn.” AJ blurted, much to Howie’s chagrin.
“AJ....” he moaned, and buried his head in his hands.
“Who the heck is Chemelyn?” Brian questioned with a sly grin, helping himself to a seat on the bunk.
“Nobody.” came Howie’s muffled reply.
“Oh. I see. Nobody. Well, would this ‘nobody’ happen to hail from Seattle?” Brian taunted. Howie’s head shot up, and he grabbed the envelope from his band mate’s grasp.
“Chemelyn! It came!” he exclaimed, and held the letter tightly in his hands.
“Well, for God’s sake, open it!” AJ ordered in exasperation. Howie complied, and began to read it aloud. When he had finished, silence shrouded the three friends.
“I can’t believe she wrote back.” Howie breathed a sigh of relief.
“I can. She digs you, man.” Brian stated softly. “And I can already tell that you like her.”
“No kidding, D. Your face was positively glowing when you read her response.” AJ added in a hushed tone.
“So, who is she, anyway?” Brian questioned, reminding the other two that he was not privy to their secret.
“Remember when we were performing in Seattle? We stayed in the Fremont.....”
*****
Chemelyn unlocked the door to her apartment, thankful to be home. She breathed in the scent of freesia which usually graced her loft, and thought longingly of a warm shower. Just as she had made up her mind to pour a relaxing bath for herself, she practically slipped upon two envelopes laying on the floor in front of the door. Chemelyn bent down to retrieve the mail, when she stopped in mid reach. One of the letters had her address scrawled across the front in a familiar handwriting. She stayed very still for a moment, then scooped the letter off of the floor, hugging it to her chest, and she raced up the stairs. Chemelyn had not even bothered with the other piece of mail, she cared only about the note in her hands.
Chemelyn stopped herself from ripping the envelope open just then. With much self control, she placed the letter aside, laying it on the foot of her bed. She strode into the master bathroom, and sat on the edge of the tub. Chemelyn reached out and turned on the faucet, finding the correct temperature. Several freesia scented candles stood in one of the corners of bathtub, and she lit them, adding bubble bath to the warm water cascading down into the large basin. Slowly, Chemelyn retrieved the letter once again, but placed it on the counter top before herself while the tub filled. Tearing her eyes from the stationary, Chemelyn concentrated on pulling the pins from her hair, and stripping out of her clothes. Once undressed, she eased herself down into the tub after shutting off the faucet. The letter taunted her from the counter, and Chemelyn reached for it. She settled in the comforting liquid, before tearing the back of the envelope open.
“Dear Friend,
I hope this letter finds you well, and as happy as you seemed in your last letter. I know you said you are searching for you euphoria, but your letter holds an underlying sense of content.
We spoke of being unsatisfied. I think perhaps that emotion comes and goes. For now, I feel very fulfilled just sharing my feelings with you. Satisfaction, like many other things, is subject to the whims of human nature. Not exactly a foundation of stone, is it?
Since your last letter, I stopped in at the library in the last own I visited. There, I asked the librarian for the Mya Angelou poem you spoke of. It was beautiful, and I think that maybe I understand a little of what women are always trying to tell men. Your emotions are as diverse as the world around us. Is that correct, or did I miss your whole point?
Chemelyn, your special place sounds stunning. I’d like to share mine with you, if you don’t mind. On the Florida coastline, there is a small cove, practically abandoned, as almost no one is aware it exists. Just about a mile down the line from it, I have begun to build some condos. I figured that the location was ideal, since it’s so close to my favorite place. I plan to live in the condos once they are finished, you see. The palm trees rise high around my cove. The water is sparkling blue, and the sand almost white. It’s a little piece of heaven; my piece. Someday, I’ll show it to you. I promise.
A cafe? It sounds perfect for you. You mentioned that you run the place. Does that mean you own it? I think that sounds like an ideal way to bide one’s time. Very relaxing and gratifying. If I may ask, is Malone your husband? Boyfriend? I’m afraid that I cannot keep my disappointment at such a realization a secret from you. I’m sure this paragraph carries an undertone of my let down. For that I apologize. I truly hope you are happy.
Do you have family? To me, family is one of the most important aspects of life. I cherish and value mine beyond compare. My mother and father are very kind and loving people. I feel that I am lucky to have them. I also have a brother and an older sister. I did have a second older sister, but she recently passed away from the disease Lupus. It has left our family devastated, but somehow, we are surviving. Her name was Caroline.
Unfortunately, I must go. Like you, I long for the 24 hour night.
~Howie”
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