5 September 2012
Johnny,
I've decided to write you a letter for every day you're away in Nepal, starting today. You're still on your long journey out there, so I know I won't be able to send these first few letters for a while - not until you are settled in and have a permanent address. But I wanted to write them anyway because I miss you already and I don't really know what else to do. Writing this, even though I know you won't read it for a while, makes me feel like I still get to talk to you every day and it somehow numbs the sting of you not being here.
I hope your flight was ok, I know you dislike flying as much as I do. It's ironic, for someone who loves adventure and seeing new places as much as you do, for you to dislike flying do much. It's sweet. I didn't think you were scared of anything. I love the fact you do it anyway. You've taught me that fear is no reason not to do something you want. Just one of the many things you have taught me this year. Also - hope legroom wasn't too much of an issue. Serves you right for being six foot three!
I was thinking about when we first met, that day at uni. You were sitting across the room from me, just one of the group of twenty new faces I would come to know so well; the EY1-ers. Back then I had no idea how important you would become to me, or how much of an impact you would have on my life. But you stood out from the start: with your tall, lithe frame; mass of tumbled hair; green jeans and some niche t-shirt. You caught my eye, so to speak.
The university forced us into one of those cringe-worthy 'ice-breaker' activities - we all had to say something about ourselves. You remember - I said I was a geek who liked comic books! I find it's best to get that out there in the beginning. I don't remember exactly what you said (my nerves were getting the better of me, you know how I am with social situations) but I remember you mentioned your summer job and how you had been learning to play guitar. There was something about the slight awkwardness of it, the smile, the unsure chuckle, that was endearing. I didn't know you, but now I wanted to.
I can't pinpoint the exact day we really got to talking; the whole first couple of weeks were a blur to me, all the new people and trying to fit in (as I always try too hard to do!), the stilted-yet-excited conversations, trying to remember names etc, was overwhelming. But I just remember this overall feeling that I liked you in particular. There was just something about you; your friendliness, humour and openness. I found you...easy to talk to. Which is really saying something coming from me!
Like I said, the first few weeks were a bit of a blur. I do remember offering you a lift home - I think I had to ask a couple of times before you accepted. I don't know why but I was nervous - I know, silly, right? But I genuinely thought you were awesome and really I just wanted to get to know you a bit better. And I wanted you to like me!
Anyway, I've probably rambled on for far too long already. I know you are going to be so busy, too busy to write back to every letter I send. And that's fine, I'll happily accept whatever correspondence you can manage. I miss you already and I hope to hear from you soon.
Love, Kim XXX
P.S. I hope this comes off as cute (attractive in a pretty or endearing way - you remember that conversation on *that* last Friday night?!) and not...too much. What can I say, I'm hopeless when it comes to you.
Letters To Johnny - One • Opuss № I