Prompt 4: No this Can't Be Summer Love

[hamlet]

*Sings Justin Timberlake*

..ahem.

Anyone who participates in this prompt gets 10 points. Its not a contest or anything - just something to generate muse and to give yourself a challenge!

Chose ONE of the following prompts and reply to this thread with a post IN CHARACTER. Breaking the rules a bit, you ARE allowed to post in first person if you so wish, and you CAN godmod people without changing the color. To get points, like all posts - effort should be put into it and it should be at least 2 good paragraphs (meaning if it takes you like 2 minutes to do, you probably won't get the points).

Note that just because a new prompt is being posted, you can still reply to the previous ones if you haven't already and get points.

Here are your choices:

1) Have your character describe their ideal lover. Explain all the qualities he or she would process. Throw in a flaw or two, shortcomings that you find endearing. Try to be as detailed as you can. You can have your character talk to a friend about this, or even a date (if they're that ...forward lol). Or this can be a journal entry. Or you can get more creative. (for the fluffy)

2) Write about a time when your character suffered a broken heart or make up a scenario when they do. You can write a letter to the person that broke their heart - assuming that they'll just rip it up afterwards. Write freely! (for the angsty)

Have fun!

[DOLORES HAZE]

"I'm going to work outside now, hon." Richard leaned down to kiss Dolores who was sitting at the dining table with a pen and paper in front of her, "Writing a letter to someone?"

"A girl I went to school with a while back. Best friend. Loved her like my sister." she replied, her voice solemn and distant.

"It's always nice to reconnect with someone you love and care about." Richard smiled before letting himself out of the back door and into the summer heat.

After she watched him leave, she turned back to the table, staring down the arrangement of fruit and some stain on the tablecloth that wouldn't go away. Shaking her head with a sigh, she felt the tears coming. Her breaths became uneven and before she knew it, she was a complete mess as her hands covered her face- her glasses soon sliding down the bridge of her nose. All this time she thought she saved him the trouble of getting caught by the police- of everything breaking down before their foggy- passionate eyes. Blinded by fear, motivated to finally release him from the hold she had on him. Leave she did- into the arms of that child pornographer. Originally, she didn't think it would effect her so, because there would be no feelings involved. However, the more she stayed at that lavish yet dusty estate- it got cold and she craved for that warm affection and attention from so long ago. It had already felt like ages. She cried back then, on the street after she was kicked out- alone.

She cried now. That missing part of her heart was still an empty space that couldn't be filled forever more. Dolores glanced down at her bloated belly, and rubbed over her nightshirt and could swear that the baby kicked. It was all set in stone. There was no way she could abandon Richard. And take his child away from him. It wouldn't be right... and she was against depriving children from- well. She was once one herself, wasn't she? But it all played out different. Playing the game was easy, manipulating the man who adored her into her little love slave. How selfish it was to keep him chasing after her when she gave him the worst moments of his life. Many a time she watched himself lose all sense of control with a very brush of her fingertips over his thigh or kiss those lips she had invaded many times with her experienced tongue. It was sick. It was obsessive. It was all she ever wanted. And she- the little conniving minx, took all the mornings after when they would 'just talk' for granted. She genuinely liked hearing what he had to say- his intelligent, English drawl captivating her in a sense that was like no other. When she would listen to his storIes in that warm embrace, it felt like the closest thing to heaven.

Now she was making an effort to contact him again, hoping that he still lived at that little space from way back when. If he didn't- well, that would make it all easier, wouldn't it? Because he wouldn't be able to write back- or find her. She wouldn't have to deal with seeing his face again. Dolores combed a band through her hair, brushing the strays behind her ear and adjusted her ponytail once more. There had to be a reason to write him. Money. Maybe? He was still a professor, surely he would still get money. But that was the farthest thing she wanted. Would writing all of her feelings down reduce the pain? The burning pain that was also tearing her up inside when she slept on that old mattress with Richard every night? No. Keep it formal. It needs to be. Act like you don't care as much. But that would be lying to him all over again. Although her habits of lying increased when they were together, she felt no need to do it now. It was a childish thing... and seeing how she looked and grew over the years, it was not the time to be a child. Money was indeed an issue that needed to be addressed. How would he react to reading it? Dolores pushed the thought from her mind. It was too much. It was time to push through and get it done as possible.

Dear Dad:

How's everything? I'm married. I'm going to have a baby. I guess he's going to be a big one. I guess he'll come right for Christmas. This is a hard letter to write. I'm going nuts because we don't have enough to pay our debts and get out of here. Dick is promised a big job in Alaska in his very specialized corner of the mechanical field, that's all I know about it but it's really grand. Pardon me for withholding our home address but you may still be mad at me, and Dick must not know. This town is something. You can't see the morons for the smog. Please do send us a check, dad. We could manage with three or four hundred or even less, anything is welcome, you might sell my old things, because once we get there the dough will just start rolling in. Write, please. I have gone through much sadness and hardship.

Yours expecting,
DOLLY (Mrs. Richard F. Schiller)

(Ch. 28, Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov)

[JAMES MORIARTY EDWARDS]

1) Have your character describe their ideal lover. Explain all the qualities he or she would process. Throw in a flaw or two, shortcomings that you find endearing. Try to be as detailed as you can. You can have your character talk to a friend about this, or even a date (if they're that ...forward lol). Or this can be a journal entry. Or you can get more creative. (for the fluffy)

It took a while for James to get used to Sebastian staying the night. He had never fallen asleep with someone at his side before, or woken up with that same person in his arms. Some nights James couldn't sleep because it was such a strange feeling. This was one of those nights. Sebastian was sprawled out on his back beside James, the blanket shoved down around his waist. James rested on his side, head propped up on his hand as he looked over the boy. He really was just a boy. True, he was a grown man in his 30's but James had a hard time seeing him as such. With all of Sebastian's blushing and silly little mannerisms, like the fidgeting and the restless moving, James couldn't see him as a man.

Though he should. God knows he's spent enough time with, and in, Sebastian to know very assuredly that he's a man. And it wasn't like Sebastian was filled with silly, naive hope about the world. He had his thoughts, some of which James thought were stupid, but he was logical and put together. Everything a man should be. James couldn't stand flighty, shallow people and Sebastian wasn't one. Sebastian saw past the artificial layer of the world, even the artificial layer that James wore so staunchly. He knew what he wanted and he always set out to get it. James admired that, he admired a drive and determination that was so close to his own. Of course, they wanted different things. Sebastian wanted to make the world a better place while all James wanted was money. Such a difference, such a stark contrast. James loved that. At the same time though, he hated it. He didn't want to stain Sebastian's pure, white soul with his charcoal,
greedy fingers. To leave the trails of corruption and avarice...

Shaking his head, James placed his hand on Sebastian's stomach, the younger man moving into the touch almost right away. The lad was fit, the muscles moving just below the surface with no strain or over the top movement. James never had been the muscular, athletic type so he always wanted that in a partner. He wanted to run his hands over the small, toned body of someone built to perfect proportion and Sebastian let him. It satisfied James's lust in a way that James hadn't experienced before.

James's hand slid up Sebastian's chest lightly before finding its way to his hair. Stroking the soft strands, "I like you hair, Sebastian. I always have. It's a glorious color, reminds me of impressionist era paintings," James barely whispered. He didn't want to wake him. "I've stolen a fair deal of them, I would know," James settled his hand cupping Sebastian's head.

Even though James thought himself to be one of the finest specimens to walk the earth, he knew that he wasn't good enough for Sebastian. James knew that he didn't care enough, that he couldn't love enough to be right for Sebastian. That thrilled James in a sick way. Just knowing that someone so...perfect was lowering themselves to be with him shook James to the core. He thought Sebastian stupid for it but couldn't stop that odd warmth that the idea started in him. Why would someone so emotional, so compassionate, would waste time with him: a thieving sociopath. Well, that wasn't entirely true. James doubted that he was a true sociopath any more. He had evolved into an emotionally crippled man and knowing that he was now capable of feeling made it harder just to let himself feel. It scared him. It scared him like Sebastian's visions scared him. And Sebastian accepted that, he took on James's fears as well as his own, taking everything James could offer willingly. James never thought that he could want someone so self-less, it would only create a poisonous relationship. James would take everything, leeching off of the other's emotions until a husk was left. But Sebastian...Sebastian was strong. He was strong and sure, not going anywhere and Hell bent on caring for James.

Falling onto his back, James redirected his gaze to the ceiling. James had never thought about the ideal person to be with as he had never wanted to be with anyone. He had always existed within the realm of careless sex and one night stands, never letting himself get ensnared in something more serious. And yet...here he was. Sleeping beside a remarkable young man (by James's standards that is) and not really caring that he wasn't going to be able to fall into bed with a new face tomorrow night. He was, for the first time in his life, truly content.

"I suppose that means that you meet the imaginary checklist," James said to Sebastian quietly. "Ironic, seeing as I don't actually have a check list,"

[JULIET CAPULET]

Dear all the people I have offended:
As I sit here and I look back,all your comments have truly broke my hearts and shatter me into pieces.I never meant to really offend you or despise you even though,I think at times all of you are the scum of the earth. My comments were just meant to help you out in life and make you come out of your little shells that you live. I'm lovely bubbly person who is just very opinionated and tries to help out people with her opinions. That is what I was trying to do helping you see past TGI Friday's and McFunsters and all your bad Forrest Gump impressions at Bubba Gump Shrimp Company that irritate me. If you can't do an impression of Forrest Gump,then don't do it, it is as simple as that. There go again giving my opinion to when it's not needed but I want let you see other world exist beyond perfectly press shirts, your Bermuda shorts and your fanny packs.

New York is extensive and it's not just Midtown and Fifth Avenue. I don't really despise all of you because you bring money into New York, but I truly wish at times y'all could die in fiery crash and not come back. Because the only things y'all do is pollute and make traffic bad in my city. I truly hate you,I wish I never have interact with you ever in my existence.But that seems not possibly since y'all seem to populate every nook and cranny of my beloved city, I wish y'all could get back to Ellis Island and leave boat to whatever part of the world you came from.

But back to the topic at hand, it really hurts me when you write comments that New Yorkers are rude. We are not rude,we are just blunt and too real for y'all sensitive mind. Y'all should learn to appreciate talent when you see it and give credit when the credit is due. I just hope y'all find the sincerity in my letter and how much I truly love you guys.I hope y'all come back and spent your hard earn Dollars and Euros in my city.

Love and Miss y'all

XOXO,
Juliet Capulet

P.S.:I sincerely hope y'all shoke on that Latte you drinking from Starbucks.

[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

((This is going to be filled with lots of all caps and curse words, so be warned))

Two

Dear... No, no not dear... Just James.

James...

This is so stupid... I shouldn't even be writing this. I could tell you everything I feel to your face that I could tell you in a letter, very, very easily. But I can't see you now... Not now when I feel so lonely and miserable... And angry. I just know I'll say things I don't mean to say when I'm near you, I just know I'll get more angry and then I just know I'll never see you again... But you deserve it for everything you did to me! Don't you...?

I'm feeling so many different things right now, its hard to keep up... The moment I saw you... You in his arms... I felt like a knife scalpel was taken to my heart and dissected it neatly in half. Strange metaphor, I know, but that's how I felt.

I know I should have told you the second that vision ended. I don't want you to die, no matter what I may yell to your face... But I can't tell you... Not when you proclaimed long ago you were going to live such a long time... I didn't want to spoil your vision for you... Though it seems justified now, looking back on what you did.

I wanted you to protect me... I wanted you to feel for me... I wanted nothing more than to see you happy, genuinely happy, in the normal sense, not in your sociopathic mindset...

You wanted me to fuck off, so you could fuck him. Well that's precisely what happened. So I hope you're happy. I hope you're DAMN WELL SATISFIED!

I tried to be patient with you, I tried to, really. I knew you were flirty, I knew you were seductive, I knew you'd always look at other men, and women. But I thought we were past this. I thought... I thought you cared about me. I truly thought you had changed. But change isn't in your vocabulary, is it? Not when you've spent your entire life fighting against it. I thought I could change you, I really did. Just a little bit of love in your life... Maybe if you had someone who truly loves you, you'd see the light... And... And...!

I love... I love...! I LOVE YOU! GODDAMMIT WHY THE HELL DO I LOVE YOU?! HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO LOVE A FUCKING SOCIOPATH?!

I... I just... I can't even... I can't even write this... I can't even grip this pen completely... My handwriting doesn't usually look like this... Its usually so neat and refined... And not covered in tears...

You told me once that you liked my handwriting... You said it looked like a man's handwriting, something you hadn't expected... You kissed my hand as I was writing... It was so wonderful... Every time you kiss me... I feel so lightheaded... Like a balloon, floating up to the sky...

But then you're the ceiling that blocks my path with your lies... With your lies and your stolen fucks.

I bet you cheated on me like a dog the entire time we were together. You were just a liar, I should have known. I was such a fool to believe in you, such a fool to be yours. I just wanted to forget about all my troubles, with my visions, with my past... Just... Just there you were! Just standing there, waiting for me to crawl into your bed.

I knew it was too good to be true. I knew that it was only a matter of time before you pushed me over the edge! You don't know how angry I can get, do you James?! No, because you think me sweet, innocent, meek minded Sebastian. Well, I'm going to take this time, and tell you how I feel about you, and your fucking lies. In capital letters.

.....

You... FUCKING ASSHOLE! I WISH TO GOD I'D NEVER MET YOU! THERE I FUCKING SAID IT, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, YOU BASTARD?! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW THAT I'M ALL ALONE WITH NO WHERE TO GO, NOTHING I CAN DO? DO YOU THINK I'M JUST SOME SORT OF DOG? SOME SORT OF SLAVE YOU CAN USE THEN THROW AWAY LIKE A TISSUE?! I'M A FUCKING. HUMAN. BEING. THOUGH THAT TERM CLEARLY ISN'T IN YOUR FUCKING VOCABULARY! YOU SEEM TO HAVE NO REGARD FOR HUMAN LIFE! YOU'VE INSULTED WHAT I DO COUNTLESS TIMES, EVEN THOUGH I'M SAVING PEOPLE'S LIVES. YOU'VE WARPED ME INTO LOVING A CRIMINAL, EVEN STARTING TO ENCOURAGE YOUR DAMN THEFTS. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?! OH. THAT'S RIGHT. YOU'RE WHATS WRONG WITH ME! YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU DAMN WELL DESERVE THAT CAD ASSHOLE GRAY, BECAUSE YOU TWO ARE CERTAINLY SUITED FOR EACH OTHER. YOU'RE BOTH LOOKING FOR A "QUICK FUCK WITH NO STRINGS ATTATCHED" AS YOU LIKE TO SAY! WELL THERE YOU ARE! FUCKING GO FOR IT! I'M NOT FUCKING STANDING IN YOUR WAY! JUST LEAVE ME WITH MY DIGNITY. LEAVE ME WITH MY PRIDE. YOU CERTAINLY HAVE ENOUGH TO SPARE!

*imagine scribbles and angry scratches here*

*imagine lots of tearstains here*

I... I... I...

I'm sorry...

I know its stupid of me to be saying this to you... But I'm sorry. Not just for yelling at you... But for not telling you about the vision... For not pushing harder to get to know you... For not being the one you needed, no, wanted in your life... I can see now that you were never in love with me, and you never will be... There's nothing left for me now... Not when you're gone... I know that seems juvenile of me... Like I'm some teenage girl who got her heart crushed by some dense jock... But isn't that what I am? I feel like we're back in high school, and that I'm missing out on what could be real life. By being with you, I sank into some sort of fantasy that only you cheating on me could pull me out of.

But... No more... I won't... I can't... I can't do this anymore. I can't be with you James, I see that now... I can't be with you when I don't know if your words are the truth, or if its all just some horrific facade that you've created for yourself. I'll never know if you want me the same way I want you deep in the very fiber of my being. I'll always suspect, always watch you, always distrust you.

I don't want that, James! I just want you! You, completely and honestly. But you think everything so trivial that you have no problem with lying. If you could just... Just take a moment and look at yourself... Just please, take a moment and look at yourself, right now in the mirror. You'll see yourself as an accomplished, debonaire, greedy bastard, and you'll be damn well proud of yourself.

But when you put yourself in my shoes... You'll see something completely different.

There, staring at you in the mirror, will be an incomplete man. A man who has stripped himself of emotion. He is not accomplished, nor debonaire, though he is certainly greedy. But he is not proud of himself. Not by a long shot. He is completely inept at realizing what actually matters in life. He is the most flawed human being I've ever met. Your gaze, your thoughts, your soul is riddled with all sorts of bumps and cracks that can easily be seen in the right sort of mirror.

But the thing is... The thing is is that though I've come to see how much that man in the other mirror means to me. How beautiful he is to me, even with his many faults. How happy he makes me, even when he's trying not to. How much warmth his smile brings me. How much he makes me laugh. How much he makes me cry. How much he makes me want to strangle him. How he seems to leave me in ecstasy. How he chills me to the bone with his touch. How he looks at me. How he speaks to me. How he just knows me. Just knows.

Without him... Without you.... James...

I am nobody.

I love----- *imagine a scribble here from where a noise disrupted his writing*

Oh... Oh god, its you. You who should never see this letter. I should burn it later.

But you're here, banging on my door. I'm telling you to go away, that I'm busy. I am busy, talking to you like this. Because I can't talk to you face to face. I'll say things I don't mean. Like that I hate you. Because I don't. I don't hate you, I--

DAMMIT! I have to go... I won't be able to finish this, not after you make me another shade of angry. I'll write a different letter or something. Maybe a nicer one tomorrow? Or maybe I won't have to, and that you'll end up explaining everything to me, and maybe I'll forgive you.

Or... Maybe not.

~~~~

FIN

[JULIET CAPULET]

Romeo:

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?I say go fuck yourself, I don't give damn where you are right now, I hope you are buried inside some ditch or living in some bridge somewhere. I hate you and I never want see you again,I really though you were the man of me.But was I mistaken, Romeo,you were nothing but two bit gold-digging crack dealer who just wanted to get into my panties?What happen to living up to the Montague last name?I guess you forgot that when you went to law school, I guess you learn how to hustle and be asshole. For your information,I'm not your housewife nor servant nor hoe and you are not my fucking pimp. I though we get that straight before I continue ripping your heart to pieces like you ripped mine.

You said marriage until death do us apart,yeah fucking right until you get bored and want to leave. If you didn't want be married,you could had said so in the first place,we would not have gone through marriage ceremony.I'm so glad, we didn't go in honeymoon because I would had hated myself until no end. By the way,I was awarded an annulment of the marriage so this marriage between me and you never existed.And by the way,you remember that little paper you signed while you were drunk at my penthouse?Well,that was prenup saying that you don't get shit from me if you divorce or the marriage becomes invalid,so guess what loverboy?You are shit out of luck,I hope your crack dealing and whore loving ways make you alot of money because if not you will be begging on the streets.By the way that apology cake you sent me,I fed to my dog, she though it was really tasty. I though about putting cyanide and hemlock on it and send it back,you bastard.

I hope every woman you meet from now on,gives you an STD and your dick falls from so many diseases. If I was any two bit violent,I will track you down and I chop your dick off personally. How foolish I was to give my virginity,I should have known better but I was innocent and stupid. And I though true love really existed,but now I know better. True love only exist on how much money you have on your bank account, because that was only true love you care about. I hope you choke on pretzel or get shot by some robber because I never want see you. If I ever see you in New York,i will personally shove you in front of subway and hope it hits you so I can your brain splatter all over the windshield.

The best thing that has happen to me is that you left because I'm have discover myself and now I know better than to love so passionately. Because it only leads to trouble and bad decision like marrying Romeo Montague. I'm so glad I never change my last name to Montague because I be vomiting from here to Time Square. I seriously I hope your brake fail,that wasp stings you so bad that you go into shock or that vase hits in the head or that runway piano hits you. If anything of that happens to you,I will personally find the hospital you are in and disconnect your ventilator machine before leaving black roses on your corp. I hate you Rome,I truly do.

Sincerely
Juliet Capulet

P.S.: I hope you choke on a peanut or cashew or on your beer!

[JACK THE RIPPER]

ONE

Victor leaned back in his desk chair and looked to the window; D.C. was as noisy and quick as ever, but it seemed his mind had slowed to a sluggish pace. There was something wrong with him- something really, truly wrong with him, because these feelings toward Tara weren't normal. He would have given anything to see her dead, even when she was his best friend- yeah, so, maybe he didn't love her, but she was his best friend. The time had come not too long ago when sex just wasn't enough anymore. That... scared him.

"Vic!" His head spun to meet the flaxen-haired beauty in the doorway, and he adopted a weak smile.

"Ter," Victor replied tiredly, leaning his head back as Tara moved to stand behind his chair. She draped her arms on his shoulders and looked down at him.

"You haven't done anything all day."

He kissed her pout. "I've been working."

"Well, you should be paying attention to me," she told him lazily. "How 'bout we just talk?"

"What'll we talk about, then?" Victor asked, sighing quietly. He should be happy with her, not thinking of killing her. She was a beautiful woman. There must be someone else he could possibly have a go at- but it wasn't even that simple. He was scared to go through with something like that. Killing someone... well, he'd surely get caught, right? Something like that? On TV, it was never enough that you wiped down your prints, they always found you.

"Tell me... who would be the perfect lady for you," Tara demanded, smiling rather cheekily.

"That's a stupid question," he said, raising his eyebrows, but he conceded anyway: "Alright... well, she has gold hair and-" Victor leaned back to look at her, "-green eyes-"

"You had to look at me?!"

He laughed. "She's a private person, like myself, and is over-emotional... but only when we're alone! She has a sharp tongue but is really kind. Her name starts with a T-"

"No, no- you weren't supposed to describe me, you were supposed to describe your dream girl. No one is perfect, Victor."

"But you're close-!"

"No whining. Now... tell me how you want to be taken care of by this mystery girl." Tara grinned down at him playfully.

"Well, it'd be nice if she could sing... and I don't like to cook, so if she could cook, that would be nice-"

"But I can't cook." She frowned angrily.

"You told me not to describe you!" This comment earned him sharp slap to the top of his head. "What?!"

"Go on."

Victor sighed, smiling a little. "She'd be able to take care of me... in bed..."

"Gross. You perv."

"What? I like that thing you do with your hips-" Another sharp smack. "Alright, alright. I want someone who can handle all my problems and just shut the fuck up for awhile while I vent, you know? I don't want to hear 'I know how you feel' or 'I'm sorry' because you don't know how I feel and of course you're sorry."

Tara stared at him for a minute and then bent, hugging the back of his head into her chest. "Poor Victor. I don't talk that much, do I?"

"Sort of."

"Well, I'll stop talking so much... I love you, Victor," she murmured into his curls, her white-gold hair falling over his shoulders.

"I love you too."

"No you don't."

"What makes you say that?" Genuine confusion crept into his voice. What could he have possibly done to her that would point in that direction? He'd made sure to be the perfect boyfriend; what else did she want?

"You haven't asked me to marry you yet." Tara spoke softly, something that was uncommon. Victor was frozen for a moment.

"Is... is that what you wanted?"

"Yeah... I want to be with you. I'm tired of being insecure. I just think you're going to get up any day and leave..." Not an entirely unlikely notion, but one that wouldn't change any with marriage.

He still couldn't move much, stumbling over a few words, attempting to start or form a comprehensible sentence. "Well... well... I don't... I don't have a ring."

"I don't care." Of course she wouldn't.

"But... but, Tara, I don't have enough money to buy us a house..."

"I'll stay here if I have to! We can stay here! No children yet. Please..."

Victor clenched his jaw. Would it really be that bad? Marrying someone who he genuinely liked? It was every possibility that she would become even more annoying with marriage; she never shut up, but would she get worse once there was, as she saw it, no escape for him?

"Then... um... will you- uh- will you marry me? ...Tara?"

"'Course I will. That's a stupid question." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, and with that, she left him to his dull shock.

This had to end now.

[JANE EYRE]

Two


Dear Edward,

I am writing this letter knowing that it will never reach you for I have no intention of ever sending it. Leaving as I did, I didn't give myself a chance to say all that I had wanted to. I don't trust easily, Edward, you know that. You know quite well how reserved I am, how sensitive I am about certain things. I never realized it before, not until spending a year away from you, but you exploited every weakness I had. True, like a fool, I had let you. I let myself trust you, told myself that your sarcasm was simply your wit and that it was all in harmless fun.

How wrong I was.

Before meeting you I had thought that love was out of the realm of possibility. I was sure that no man could ever love me or want me and I believed for a brief, blinding moment, that it was possible because you loved me...or so you said. I hadn't thought you'd be one to take advantage of me, even after that gypsy stunt you pulled. I even tried my hardest to keep myself from falling from you, citing every reason in the book. You were my employer, older than me, and better bred. I was just poor, plain, a simple governess and nothing else. After all, Blanche Ingram had been pining after you, quite obviously. How could I ever compare with her? She was tall, regal, dark eyed and dark haired, like a Spanish beauty. Yet you chose me and I thought it was for all the romantic reasons I continually read about.

I was just a companion, Edward. Someone you wanted to live with like a sister when the title wife was washed away by your attempted bigomy. I humoured you, I took care of you, I saved your life but you never truly loved me. I loved you, though, Edward. Oh, how I loved you. You and dear Adele, Mrs. Fairfax, and Sophie, I loved you all and it pained me to leave you but I had to. I couldn't continue as we had been, it wasn't fair to me. The one I loved where I thought love wasn't possible wasn't willing to work to be with me.

A divorce is all that it would have took, Edward. A few pieces of paper and you sending Bertha away to an asylum. You couldn't. You just asked me to live as your mistress (you said sister but I know what you meant. You had your arms around me while you spoke). I am not a mistress, Edward. I am a woman, young, yes, but a woman who can, and wants to, love. Requited love, unconditionally requited love that doesn't have consequences or limitations. Bertha, Blanche Ingram, your sarcasm and your incessant need to put me at a lower position, calling me your little Jane, all kept us from being truly possible. You should have realized that, having loved before. You were the responsible one, not I. I was young, innocent, and more than naive in matters of the heart. I trusted you and you betrayed that.

I am sorry for how I left but I knew that if I had waited any longer I would have been talked out of it. I am happy in New York; I'm an accomplished artist and art teacher, an heiress who gives her money to people who need help, and someone that people don't see as a plain, easily dismissed girl. They see me here, they see Jane Eyre, not Ms. Eyre the governess. You never could.

-Jane.

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Two

To my Dearest Dolores,

How are you? I know it's been a while since I asked that, even though we live in the same apartment and see each other everyday. I shouldn't be writing this. I shouldn't be because you could find it in the trash or on my desk and read it. But I feel if i don't write this my heart will explode in my chest. Now wouldn't that be a sight to see, someone's heart exploding from sadness. Just the thought of it makes me laugh a little, which may stop the tears from staining the paper, for a little while at least. I don't mean to write this to make you feel bad or even bring up sadness. I just can't stop my heart from breaking every time I look at you.

I should of kept it hidden. I never should of told you what I felt..no feel. None of this discomfort and pain would of fallen on me if I would of just shut my stupid mouth. Why do I always open my mouth and ruin every relationship I every have with anyone? my Mother and Father hate me because i'm not straight. I told you I loved you and you said we were better off friends. That you don't swing that way. My stupid mouth gets me in trouble and I hate it. It's why I just shut it and smile like a lifeless barbie doll. I hide all my emotions now behind a smile, and the sad thing is, most people actually believe that I'm fine. But I could never fool you could I? you always know what I'm thinking and feeling. I know you do, even when you don't tell me. But I bet you didn't see this coming did you?

I think you you broke me, just a little. I've never felt so hurt and sometimes it hits me hard, and I can't breathe. I stand there staring at myself in the mirror and ask myself "What is wrong with me?" Why does no one love me Dolores? Why am I always the person that is alone in a room? Is it because I don't party often? Is it because I'm boring and overworked? Or is it because unlike most people I only like girls? but even other lesbians don't find me attractive, so obviously I am unlovable. Maybe you can tell me why? Why did you turn my love down? You didn't even give me a chance, I guess it's because straight. that would be a good reason why.

I just need to know WHY? Why can't anyone, ANYONE, love me? God and every time I look at you I just break a little more inside and I can't touch you without wishing you were mine. I wan't this pain that I feel in my chest every time I look at you to go away. I know i can't blame you for how I feel or the pain that haunts me. I just wish you would love me .

Oh Wow, this letter so hysterical. Good thing you'll never read it. My letter will be shredded and burned and I am happy that you won't read my heart brake.

Sincerely
Monica Lisa Dragoti
Still just a Friend