Pamela Hu
Written after...
“
His eyes were the same colour as the sea in a postcard someone sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay.
Warsan Shire
Dear you, “Who are you writing to?” People would ask. “Someone who will listen.” changed to “Anyone who will listen.” when that someone no longer meant you. Because I still had to make something out of all these words, clarity out of all this chaos, and when I did I became unmistakingly free. You know how it is like running in directionless motion, like running zero gravity, full force, lifted, like running out of ways to write about you. I’m so out of breath but I just had to run. P.H.
u, Dear yo
tter. a h s I . bleeds h t r a e The you? t ’ n o w , r togethe e m e c Pie -P.H.
Dear
you,
This world is crazy spinning. My thoughts are vertigo. Can we sit in stillness for a moment? I need that more right now. Well, than I need you. Dizzied, P.H.
than anything not any more
Dear you, Let’s grow up, old, and in love. But not necessarily in that order... P.H.
Dear you, If we could thumb through all the sheets of rock here, what do you think we’d find? What would this world reveal to us that it hasn’t already? We could spend a lifetime finding out? I’m in if you are. P.H.
Dear yo u, You’re q uiet but your musi c’s not. What i s it tha t you wa nt to feel but can’t sa y aloud? -P.H.
Dear
you,
I knew I couldn’t hold your intere longer. I felt you forgetting me. So
I
let
go
knowing
that
you
may
praying
that
you
would.
P.H.
never
return,
rest
n,
for
much
Dear you, le states away I’m finding myself a coup but I really from home. I say “states” e” but I really mean “worlds”; I say “hom mean you. unfamiliar sort The textures here are an ng feels like a of striking, and everythi distant, warm contradiction: close and ... and cool, there and gone u and me. Everything feels like yo out means I know reaching my hand just something grasping at air. There’s ting us...time I can’t see that’s separa change, I’m or space, indifference or know I don’t not exactly sure. I just ore. So I guess want it to be there anym : When are you what I’m trying to say is coming back? me? When can you come back to P.H.
Dear you, The air here makes me breathe you in deep. My rib cage is buckling but I don’t want to exhale. I’m not ready to start missing you.
-P.H.
Dear you, There are these spaces, spaces between days last talked, spaces between our cracks and breaking, spaces between my every word about you and do you know they’re about you? Can you hear the silence you left me with in each gap? And can you tell I miss you so much that I see you everywhere? Even in empty space, I see you.
P.H.
Dear
you,
The light blinds eyes that can’t help but see. Can
you
long
close
enough
yours
to
remember what to
it
not
P.H.
was have
like to
remember?
Dear
you,
Today
I
looking what fit
realized: for
others the
we’re
answers. say
and
questions
ourselves...
Always
asking,
P.H.
Taking making
we’ve
asking
all in it
been
Dear July
flew by with it. we’ve managed
you,
and carried you Can you believe to undo so much of what we did? And
you forgave yourself for the person you couldn’t become. Why can’t I? P.H.
Dear you, You’ve always said that
driving brings you a kind of calm that nothing and no
one else can. I think I know what you mean now. It’s like for once you feel in control. . .
-P.H.
P.S.Despite what it may seem like, I need you to know what it is like and it’s like this: You mean worlds to me and I’m still here and I still care but not like how I use to. I’ll never want to be how I use to. I know better now. I don’t imagine you’ll ever write back. And I think I’m (finally) okay with that.
............... ............... “PS stands for postscript. It comes from the Latin postscriptum, which literally means “written after.” In the days of handwritten and typed letters, we often found ourselves remembering something we wanted to include only after we’d signed off.”