Dear, Cassie,

We met about a year ago, but I was in a place where I was trying to think positively and I thought your sad story would hinder any progress I was trying to make. Here I am, a year later, in the middle of a mess, and I found myself drawn to you again. I'm not trying to "stay positive," and I'm just trying to feel things and function and cope with life day by day. And, funny thing is, I think I found so much comfort in you. In what I thought was your sad story. And I'm humbled by how wrong I was a year ago. Your story is not sad; your story is difficult, maybe a little messy, but it is far from sad--it's inspirational, and uplifting, and encouraging. And it's exactly what I needed to hear.

Your struggles have been real. You ran with your first love and it turned out to be something completely different than you had anticipated--your love story turned into an abusive relationship; the love story you left everything for, believed in without a doubt... You left and had nothing, not even a family to support you.

I feel so silly for thinking there was nothing to learn from you a year ago. You are the definition of strong; you are a fine example for women everywhere.

I found so much comfort in hearing your story. You are just so real. You're a girl busting her butt to do the best she can for her kid. And that's all I want in life too. To work hard, have a happy kid, and find some happiness myself. You fell down, and you got back up. And when you fell down again, you got back up again. Out of the ashes, you got more than you ever could have imagined. Not only did you get your family back, but you found a new one, and you turned your life into something you never could have imagined.  I know it's not easy, but you make it seem so easy. You provide hope that there is, well, hope.

I have a wonderful family--more wonderful than I ever could have imagined. And they will support me in everything I do. They will pick me up when I fall, and I probably will. And I feel grateful for that, especially knowing that there are girls out there like you who are going through far more difficult struggles. You had to support yourself and pick yourself up, and there's something so admirable in that. It's usually when we're at our worst that we realize how much we're actually worth. And you, my friend, have soared. I couldn't be happier for you. You deserve everything you've gotten and so much more.

You're an inspiration to me, and women everywhere--to do the right thing, to believe in themselves, to reach for the stars. So, thank you. Thank you for giving me courage, and hope, and strength. Thank you for going through the situations you did, and coming out on top, a role model for all us girls struggling. Thank you for being you, and for sharing your story.

Not-so-strugglingly Yours,
NicholleLee

Dear Peter,

I have so many emotions toward you, and I'm not 100 percent how I feel yet; but the more I hear your side of the story, the more I feel bad for you. You killed TEN people. You killed ten kids; ten of your peers; ten daughters and/or sons. You brutally, thought-out, plainly killed people. Their mothers and fathers will never hold them again; they'll never see them smile; they'll never hear them laugh; they'll never see them graduate and grow up into the adults they were supposed to be.

Yet, I'm feeling sorry for you. Of course I have empathy for the families that were impacted by your shooting. Of course I think what you did was wrong. Of course I find it terrible and disgusting, and don't understand why you chose to do what you did. But, I still feel sorry for you.

The truth is, yes you killed those kids. But honestly, those kids were just as much responsible as you were. I realize most everyone in the world will disagree with me. I realize people will think I am crazy and insensitive and just a huge jerk. But honestly, bullying is not something to be taken lightly. Your lawyer compares it to the Battered Wife Syndrome, and he's totally on to something. There's a point where you just can't take it any more. There's a point where they break you down so much, you will do anything to make it stop.

Our society has this sick view that we should be fixing the bullied; when in reality we should be fixing the bullies. For kids to get away with tearing down their peers, for shoving kids into lockers, for judging their choices--it's just not right. Yet, we think that if the bullied kid will just stick up for himself, or get better clothes, or wear a different backpack things will get better. No. That's only potentially fixing one half of the problem. What about the kids with mean hearts? What about the kids who only care about themselves? What about the kids who are tormenting, and picking on, and being barbarians toward their schoolmates? What happens to them? In a lot of cases: nothing.

That's not to say punishments are not forced; and it's not to say that teachers, principals, and parents are not trying to turn these bullies in a different direction. I sincerely think a lot of them are. However, they weren't in your case. And, you broke.

I think that's why I feel so much empathy for you. You were broken. You were beaten down and defeated. You were like a battered wife; if you didn't get out, you were going to die. Maybe metaphorically, maybe literally. And that's why I can't help but "side" with you. Have you ever heard the phrase "I love you, but I don't love what you're doing"? I think that's how I feel. I in no way condone your behavior; but in a weird way I understand it.

You are a broken, lost, scared person. You are lonely. You are tired. You are sad. But most of all, you're mad. And you have every right to be.

You remind me of my own son. Not that he's lost or broken or sad; he's only one, so he's on top of the world. But you remind me that I need to love him, I need to show him that I love him, I need to support him, and I need to defend him. I don't want him to toss my letters aside, I don't want him to dread seeing me, I don't ever want him to think I would prefer he weren't around. And I'm sorry you were never able to get that from your mother.

So while I'm not going to be cheering for the defense, I just wanted you to know that there is someone out there who doesn't hate you; there's someone out there who doesn't think you're a monster. You're not a monster. You need help, and you need attention, and you need love.

And I'm so sorry you never got any of that.

Understandingly yours,
NicholleLee

Dear Lydia,

I'm a little embarrassed to tell you how much I appreciate your sharing life on Blossom Street with me. I'm a young, somewhat trendy, twenty-something, which surely means I should find your stories about knitting and people close to twice my age boring and unimportant. But visiting A Good Yarn and meeting all your customers and classmates makes me feel so connected to something. You've let me into your life and into your store, you've shared your friends and your town, and you've shown me that we're all connected even when we don't feel like it.

I don't knit or crochet, although I've tried to learn many times (I haven't found a lefty teacher yet), yet being at A Good Yarn is so calming; and in my profession(s), I can use all the calm and stress-reduction I can get. Working in the publishing industry and having a one-year-old makes social engagements and time for friends and time for myself pretty non-existent, so I'll take the girl-time in whatever form I can get it.

But more than that, it's comforting to hear about people's everyday struggles. I often get the feeling that I need to be the perfect wife, perfect mother, and perfect employee; but on a day like today, two cups of coffee down and still feeling like I need a nap (and a makeover), it feels impossible. And it's true. I can't be the perfect wife, or the perfect mother, or the perfect employee. I can try my hardest, do my best, and give it my all; but perfection--it's not in my DNA, as badly as I want it to be. We're not wired to be perfect human beings--maybe someday, but definitely not today.

Meeting you and the other ladies on Blossom Street reminds me that I am not going to be perfect, I probably won't even be close to it. But you've taught me I'm lucky to be here; Margret's taught me life could be worse; Alix has taught me that being unique to myself can be better than perfection; and Colette, she taught me that fear, while can be debilitating at times, is an incredible virtue.

The business on Blossom Street reason wakes me up. It makes me realize to slow down. To appreciate what I have. To let go of the stress on my shoulders. But it also reminds me that I can do what I set my mind to. That I can be the best person I can be. That I can constantly push myself. It seems weird, right? That you remind me to slow down yet keeping pushing at the same time. I can't explain it, but I guess just hearing what all you ladies go through reminds me 1) to love my family, to love my friends, and to appreciate what I have, and 2) that working hard pays off, that the support of family and friends will take me farther than I thought I'd ever be able to go, that while I'm not perfect I'm doing a pretty fine job at life.

See, none of you are perfect. You all make mistakes. Yet, life on Blossom Street is so appealing. It makes me realize that the grass isn't greener on the other side. And it makes me realize--there are probably people out there who are envious of my life. Mine! We're all different, we're all imperfect, and we're all living such wonderful stories.

So I'll sweat while I chase my son around, I won't do the dishes before I go to bed, and I probably won't finish working on the manuscript I need to; but there's always tomorrow to improve. For now, I'm going to enjoy what I have; I'm going to appreciate the laughing voices of my husband and son; I'm going to feel the love I have inside of me grown. Because that is what life is really about--the meaningful relationships.

Thanking you for the reminder,

NicholleLee.

Dear Paige,

When I first heard your story I was intrigued because I, like you, had a brand new baby boy. He's going to be one on Monday and for some reason I find myself reflecting on your story this morning. I'm dealing with my first "sick baby" time--I think it's just teething, but he's got a fever, and he's fussy, and just wants to cuddle. And the pain I feel in my heart for him made me think of how you could even leave your child. I thought, if I hurt this much just from his being a little under the weather, how could Paige have just left Max?

I can understand the overwhelming feeling you had with your husband at work all the time, and your not leaving the house, and the baby fussing. I totally get that. I get overwhelmed on the weekends sometimes, and I have the opportunity to go to work Monday through Friday and do adult things. But still, to just leave? Especially after months when you've had the chance to bond and really form a relationship with him.

Didn't your heart just die? Wasn't the longing for him unbearable? Weren't you mad to be missing such big milestones in his life?

Or does this make me a really clingy mom? I worry sometimes that I am. Going one day without my son makes me fidgety. The idea of him starting to walk while I'm away at work makes me want to quit my job. I miss him so much while I'm at work, yet I'm only away for nine or ten hours. To miss him for weeks? I honestly think I'd die. Or end up in a mental institution.

And I've heard that phrase "never judge a mother" or something like that. And I really do try to live by that. You never know someone's whole situation. You never know what goes on behind closed doors. And I of all people know this is completely true; you never know what goes on in another person's home. Ever. And even with a glimpse into yours, I really try not to judge. I can understand why you left. I can see your reasoning, and that you just snapped. You didn't really want to go, but for your own sanity you had to go. Sometimes we just get to our braking point and something has to change. It happens to me. And I can certainly understand you snapping since you had mommy issues to begin with.

I am glad you found her though. I think it "fixed" something in you. I think it did something for you that would have ate at you forever. You became a mother with the mentality that you were never supposed to have become a mother. And that's not fair for you or for Max. So I'm glad that you did what you needed to do to become the best mother you could be for Max.

But I will admit, I just didn't think I was going to be able to finish your story. I came into it because we had our son's ages in common. I thought, this will be interesting. But I'll be honest, I just got mad at you kind of. How could you not love your son as much as I love mine? And there I went judging you again. Just because you snapped doesn't mean your don't love your son. Just because you left doesn't mean you don't want what's best for him. Right? You really challenged me. You really taught me that the whole "don't judge other mothers" thing is so true. You taught me understanding and empathy and you even taught me a little bit about love. In a weird way.

I hope you have found happiness. I hope you have found yourself through your son. I hope that he makes you feel full and accomplished and special. I hope that maybe one day my love story, my relationship with my son, can inspire you. Because yours, as much as I don't understand it, has inspired me. It's taught me to hold my son tight, to let go when I need to, and to listen to what's in our hearts. It's not just about me--it's about him too. And you reminded me of that.

Hugging my son,
NicholleLee

Dear, Sarah,

I've been contemplating what I wanted to say to you for some time now. And I just can't figure it out. It's not often that I have this difficulty. But even after a month of having time to mull it over in my mind, I just don't know what to say to you. That doesn't mean I like you any less than others, I just haven't fully decided how I like you.

There's the fact that you were able to escape your dirt bag husband. That says a lot. That shows strength. And I commend you for that.

But then, on the other side, you cling to Miles like a baby to his mother. And that, it kind of shows weakness. Not weakness in the vain of "you're a weak person," but the fact that you kind of clung on to the first man to show you affection. And don't get me wrong, Miles is GREAT. He really is.

I guess I don't really know what I'm saying. Do you see what my problem is here?

It really all started when you were telling me about the time Miles found out your brother is the one that killed his wife. You were just so reserved and offsetting and, dare I say, whiny. And I guess I can't say this is a wrong reaction, since I have no idea how I would react in this situation. But it just seems like...it just seems like you would have reacted differently. I get not wanting your brother to get in trouble. And I understand not wanting to hurt the man you love. But why didn't you say anything? You had a chance to talk to Miles, you had the chance to explain yourself, and you didn't. I get that it would have been hard. Really hard. But if it meant loosing him forever...DO IT. He overreacted, as one can expect. He made assumptions, as one could expect. He was hurt, as one can expect. So wasn't it up to you to try and help him, to set him straight, to show him.

And like I said, this didn't make me not like you or your story, it just made me sit back and think, humph. And that's it. There was no connection, no hatred, no enthusiasm. It just was. And I think that's why I don't really know what to say to you. Your story was sad, but it wasn't tragic. It was touching, but it wasn't inspiring. It was just too mixed.

Maybe I'll end up with this amazing ephiphany and I'll totally understand the meaning of it all, and then I'll totally change my mind--in which case I'll let you know. But for now, this is all I have to offer. Humph. 

Confusidly yours,
NicholleLee

Dear, Emaline,

It's been a while since I've sat down and written a letter. I feel kind of guilty about that. But a lot of things have changed. I moved across the country (again), I had a baby boy, I got a new career--you know, nothing significant. I guess all that's to say that I come to you with a different view on life. I've followed some of your friends/acquaintances/neighbors for quite some time, and I wondered, Will I feel the same about Colby and the stories that come out of this little beach town now that I'm, you know, "grown up"? I honestly wasn't sure. But I did know this: some of my most fond memories were in Colby; I met wonderful people; I fell in love (I think); I visited time and time again, not getting enough of the residents/tourists/etc.

So, when I found out I was going to be meeting you, I was nervous. I was scared. I was worried that everything I had known would change. Because I had irrevocably, undeniably changed. But you taught me something. We all change. We will. It's just a part of human nature. What matters, however, is how we accept it, how we handle it, and how we let it impact our beings..
have changed since the last time I wrote; I moved across the country (again), I had a baby boy, I started a new job...like an actual

While our changes are much different--you're going to college, I'm having a baby; you're staying in your small town, I'm going back to mine--we're not so different, you and I.

I mean, I know you haven't decided yet if you're going to leave Colby (or at least, you haven't told me), but I have a sneaking suspicion you will. If you're meant to be somewhere bigger in this world, you'll get there some how. I am painfully shy; I am a complete introvert; I'm more comfortable hiding in my twins' shadow. With all that being said though, I took off--I flew away from the small town. And no one was more shocked than I was. First, it was just a few hours to a slightly bigger town for college, then across the country for work. And you know what, it was awesome. It was the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't have to hide anymore; I'm still shy, but I'll talk. Changing my scenery wasn't something I was fond of, but I did it out of sheer desire to succeed. And I did.

Whether you get out of Colby now or later, you will. I know it, I can feel it in my bones. You're meant for more. You're meant for more than a crappy boyfriend that cheats on you; you're meant for more than standing in a sandbox working the family business; you're meant for more than some summer fling. I know because, you're like me. You work hard, you care too much, you're scared. I don't know if you end up with Theo, I don't know if you'll end up at EU or Columbia, I don't know what you decide; but I guess is what I'm saying is: don't give up. Keep going. If for any reason to prove your father wrong; to prove to him you're not failing, you're not going to be stuck just because he couldn't help you. Girls like you and me, we don't need anyone else. Thank you very much. We can do it just fine on our own.

So be scared, be afraid, be weary of change. Because it's that fear that could end up motivating you. It's that fear that can change your entire world, your outlook, your destiny. I was scared of the change, but I took it as it came; I, finally, decided for once in my structured, organized, thought-out life to just let the change happen, I was going to let the fear of change change me--to let it control what I do next instead of trying to control it myself. And I realized something incredibly important: if you just let go, if you just let go and let life control, well, life, amazing things can happen. And I think you'll learn that. I think, because you're like me, you'll decide to give in. You'll give in to the plan, and you'll throw caution to the wind, and you'll end up with the moon and more. You'll end up in New York with Theo, you end up somewhere with Benji, you'll go off with Morris. I don't know what you're going to do, but I do know that when you do--it's going to be amazing. For both of us.


Changingly Yours,

NicholleLee

Dear Ender,

I'm not going to lie; I'm not sure how I feel about you yet. I have a feeling you're minipulitive, violent, and selfish. But for some reason I'm not totally turned off. Maybe it's because you're "the chosen one." But even so, should that behavior be rewarded? I don't think so.

I get the distinct feeling you're going to be praised for your violence. But not because it's violence, but because it's "smart witted." I'm sorry, I don't care how smart you are--violence is violence. And to encourage it at such a young age is terrible.

I can't help but think of all the kids that are bullied and hurt themselves--or worse--over violence in schools, and it makes me sick to think you're out there climbing the ranks due to it. And you feel no remorse. I think you might a little. Maybe deep down and you just haven't noticed it yet.

But that thought just doesn't leave my mind. I try to be open, and I am trying to let you finish my story before I completely dislike you, but I don't know if I'll be able to do it.

I don't know if in this world of violence, if I can condone such behavior from such a young boy. And I realize they say it's for the greater good of the world, but is it really? Can't there be an easier way than forcing these young girls and boys to leave their families and prepare for war.

I guess it's not the first time something like this has happened. And I realize it won't be the last. But there's got to be a better way. There's got to be a way in which we don't instill these values of violence and hatred in our children. Because lets face it, even if it's instilled in the best interest of humanity, it's still creating a vicious race of people. And it's spreading to those kids who are not even of the chosen class.

Look at Peter. Just look at him. I've never seen a larger cry for help in my life, yet he's just seen as a normal kid... Normal kids don't kill squirrels because they're bored. Normal kids don't make their siblings believe they're going to be killed. And why is he like this? Because of his hatred for you for accomplishing what he couldn't. Your going off to "save the world" in war is creating him to be a monster. So it's not just you. It's not just the kids your training with. It's spreading. Throughout the whole universe.

And I just wonder if you're where it started... But like I said, I'll try my best not to judge until I let you finish your story. I am trying. I just don't really have any tolerance for violence.

Non-judgingly Yours,
NicholleLee

Dear Peter Pan,

Seeing as how you were the apple of my eye as a kid, I thought I would love revisiting you. Especially now that I'm going to have a kid of my own, I couldn't wait to introduce him or her to you and share the joy of Peter Pan.

But I realized something I never realized as a kid... You're kind of conceded. And a bit selfish. Maybe I just didn't want to see it when I was young, or maybe I couldn't. But as an adult--dare I say it, as a grown up--I can't help but think how unattractive you are.

I mean, I understand not wanting to grow up, I guess. Stay young forever, no responsibilities, no worries. But you miss out on so much when you don't grow up. Love, the freedom to really make your own choice, the joy of having children. It seems like an awful big sacrifice to make. Maybe it's just me, but I wouldn't want to miss out on the ladder. Sure there's a lot more responsibility, but isn't it worth it?

I always thought the idea of staying young was a great one--after all, you taught it to me. But as I sit here and feel my baby kick I realize you're well without. Life is so much more than having no responsibilities. In fact, I think, it's those responsibilities that make life joyous, make life worth it. If we let fear hold us back we're going to miss out on the most amazing parts of life. We won't have that opportunity to grow, expand, learn. We'll be stuck chasing Captain Hook for the rest of our lives.

Maybe I'm alone in my feeling of wanting to grow up; or maybe I never really was a kid. But it just seems like staying young forever is not worth it. I get wanting to beat Hook, but isn't there a point when we just have to realize there's more than just that one ambition? There's more than just one goal. Can't we have more than that one victory? Not if we don't try.

You can face Hook time after time; how can you not face growing up? I think there's more there than just wanting to have fun; I hope you'll let me learn more.

Because even though I disagree with you, I do appreciate your free spirit and your "aliveness." And that is something I want my kids to experience. Just for a little while at least. I want them to experience the fun; I want them to fight Hook; I want them to experience all the joys of childhood. But I also want them to experience all of life, not miss out on half of it. Because like I said, the older you get, the more rewarding life is. And I think it's just now, just as I write this--as I revist you--that I realize that. That I realize growing up is so worth it. It's the most scary, most challanging, most rewarding thing ever. And surely someone who's fought Captain Hook can realize that. Right?

Growingly Yours,
NicholleLee

Dear Eric Sanderson,

...if that even is your real name.

Your life is incredibly perplexing to me! I have so many questions and want so many answers, but I don't think you're in the state of mind to give them to me.

Can you trust Dr. Randal? I don't think so.

Can you trust the First Eric Sanderson? I don't think so.

Can you even trust yourself? I don't think so.

So who can you trust? What is real? What is going on?

I feel so bad for you. Your life is so not even in your control. I'm the type of person who has to have complete control over her life, and the slightest bit of non-control drives me insane. How can you stand not knowing anything about yourself? How can you stand not knowing anything about your past? It's the glue that holds us together; the glue that makes us us. And you have none of it. Therefore, who are you? But there's not point in asking that because you can't answer.

I'm hoping the more time we spend together the more answers we...you...will get. These past few weeks have been interesting, but I NEED TO KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON. It's driving me insane. It's all I can think about. Who are you? What are you? I need to know. Now. I'm  not a very patient person.

I feel like you are you though. I mean, look at Clio. You've got this innate attachment to someone you personally don't even know. Maybe she's your soulmate. Maybe you're connected no matter what. Or maybe she's just the one bit of reality you can or want to hold on to. I don't blame you. She sounds like a charming girl. And in a world where you have no one, it's good to cling on to the hope that you at least had someone.

Clearly I have a lot of questions. And so do you. So I guess our time together is not over yet. And hey, at least you have someone. I'm not going anywhere until we figure out who you are.


Investigatingly Yours,
NicholleLee.

Bright Young Things Review, Anna Godbersen

I don't usually use this space for book reviews, but I've decided to make an exception. I'm currently reading Bright Young Things by Anna Godbersen, and while I can't seem to put the book down I love it so much I often find myself wondering, "What was her editor thinking?"

Godbersen has an incredibly way of transporting her readers to the 20s. She does an incredibly job of creating a world of speakeasies and flappers. And this is probably the most incredible part of the book--perhaps why I love it so much. I'm a sucker for speakeasies. And I commend her for that. As I edit books based in different time periods this is often a huge issue--for me at least. People invest their entire story into an incredible era, yet they don't ever develop or create that era. If you're going to do it, you have to do it all the way. And Godbersen seems to understand this--thank god.

What had me cringing about this book is the common first-time-author mistakes...and she's not one of them. Editing book after editing book tells us not to use terms like "he admonished," or "she concluded," yet Godbersen uses these said bookisms up the wazoo. And it drives me insane. I tried to look past it. The book is good, the writing's good, what's it matter if she does this. But I couldn't. And I can't. It takes away from the dialogue--it takes away from the impact the dialogue is having. And I just can't help but wonder why she chose these words rather than "said" or "asked."

And I hate to admit it, but there is a huge plot point gone askew. At one point she's in Letty's story (as she goes back and forth between three girls lives, hardly ever connecting them--but we'll get to that...), going on and on about how Letty is going to go back to Ohio. Her time in NY was fun while it lasted, but it just wasn't going to work. She is an actress right? Surely she can make her sisters believe she had the most wonderful time in NY. But then all of this sudden it's Astrid going to Ohio... It's Astrid doing this. The author seems to have gotten confused whilst writing and has picked up from Letty's point of view thinking it was Astrid. Or maybe it was just a typo..or two or three. Surely her editor would have picked up on this right? How could she not have? So I went back and reread the section, and then I reread it again. And surely enough...she switches characters just like that! I'm incredibly perplexed by this. WHAT?? It almost made me want to stop reading the book altogether. But, alas, I've already invested 200 pages into the story, I've got to finish the last 79. I'll try to give her the benefit of the doubt...it was my misreading...but I don't think it was. She's had some character issues up until this point...not this large of course, but they're there.

I'm of the opinion that you don't switch character perspectives unless it's a chapter break. It's just more clean that way. And normally Godbersen seems to agree with this. Each chapter is devoted to a different girl. But randomly she'll stop talking about one girl and pick up where the other left off. There are slight connections, but a reader needs warning when they're leaving one scene and picking up at another. And in my opinion a hard enter is not enough. Maybe it's just because I get to emotionally invested in my characters...

And speaking of characters, I just wish so much that she would actually connect them. I mean I have 79 pages left and Letty and Cordelia are still pinning over their loss of each other. They know where the other one is...vaguely...they both miss each other...just make it happen already!!!

Maybe the ending will be so incredible I just forget all of these flaws. I hope so. Like I said, she's created an incredibly beautiful world. And I want to spend all my time in it. I just can't seem to look past the ugly.

Until next time,
NicholleLee

Dear Laurel,

At first, you annoyed me. To be completely honest. I'm it'd been eight years--MOVE ON already. The fact that you wouldn't even give Cole the time of day was just...childish. And you're supposed to be a big, mature judge... Finally however--because of his gray eyes, or his devilish smile, or maybe because he seems like a genuinely nice person--you forgave him. For what? I don't know yet and it's driving me crazy.

But it got me thinking.

After eight years you still couldn't see him; you still couldn't stand him. Either he was truly the most disgusting human being on Earth, or girl...you're in love. But, seriously. Eight years? Aren't you a Christian? Aren't Christian's supposed to forgive. That's what I'm told. It just doesn't make sense to me that you could hold so much resentment toward someone for eight years that when they come back into you life (for reasons unknown) you can't even give them the time of day.

I mean aren't we supposed to live, learn, and move on? Isn't that like the philosophy of life or something? How could you have so much resentment built up in you for so long? Didn't it drive you cray? Didn't it kill you? Wasn't it exhausting? Maybe I'm just too forgiving. Maybe you're not forgiving enough. I don't know.

I know you say that you had thrown all that crap away, that you had moved on, you didn't realize you still had all these feelings. But how couldn't you? How couldn't you feel that hatred? To be completely honest, it just makes you seem like an emotionless wench. Truly. I'm sorry--that was rude, but it's true!

I understand a broken heart or whatever. I understand being hurt so badly by someone it makes you physically ill. I get it. I do. But don't we move on? Don't we grow? Out of sight out of mind, right? Apparently not.

And what I really don't get is how it's being with him again (after you finally give him two seconds of your time) that you forgive him. You don't even "forgive" him, you just fall in love with him! It doesn't make sense. Am I missing something? Maybe I'm too emotional. Maybe I don't get love. Maybe I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't know what makes us different. And maybe that's all it is...differences. But it just seems like too much to hold on for eight years.

Isn't that the best form of revenge--moving on, being happy, not needing him? Maybe it's easier said than done. I guess I don't have that much experience in the whole love thing... But I am married...I've had heartache...I've been betrayed. I just feel like life is too short to hold on to a grudge for eight years. Maybe you're learning that now. Maybe that's why you "forgave" Cole. Maybe that's why you're falling in love again...with the same person.

Maybe my view will change when you finish telling me your story. I hope it does. Because right now I can't help but think you're a heartless wench with no emotion. And yet, I find my self strangely drawn to you... Does that make me weird.

Emotionally Yours,
NicholleLee.

Dear Mara Dyer,

WHAT????? Jude. No. The watch. The hat. Eeek.

I can't imagine what's going through your head at this moment. Then again, maybe it's just in your head? I don't know. I have no idea.

Mara, you are by far the strangest and most unique person I've ever encountered. How did this happen? How did you happen. I can't even wrap my head around it, and I'm an outsider. How? What? You're going crazy, I know it. Not literally. Well, maybe. But, confusing!

This is all I have to say: DON'T WALK AWAY FROM NOAH. He's your only hope. You can trust a guy named Noah. Jude on the other hand? Clearly not. Jude. It's too sharp; it's too strong.




The truth is, I just don't know what to think. Am I freaked out? Am I totally open and accepting? I have no idea. Normally I'm a pretty good judge of people. But you, you, I just don't know. I want to be accepting of who you are and recognize that it's not you doing these things, but something that happened to you. But it's freaky. It's weird. This can't just happen can it? My dad says every action has a consequence--an equal or greater reaction. And, I don't know. This has got to be a reaction to something. But what. 


M-A-R-A
I mean, the Ouija board said you were going to be the death of Rachel. What did it know that you didn't? What was the cause of said Ouija board message? Everything has an equal or greater reaction... So what was it? Was it truly just the pressure of the asylum? ...no pun intended...it's kind of there. Somewhere something inside you snapped. But what was it? 


I guess I'll just have to wait until we meet again.


Confusidly Yours,
NicholleLee.

Dear George,

I've been thinking about you a lot lately.
Your romance.
Your emotion.
Your...perfectness.
I've been basking in memories of our time spent together within the last few years, and I'm sad to see it lessening.
Maybe I'm dying to see you because I'm getting married soon...you know, just taking one last look of loves past. But, I can't but help thinking our story ends here. Maybe that's wrong of me, maybe it's hopefully and naive...but I don't mind being those things. If anything--you taught them to me.
There's something about you that I just can't give up on.
There's something about you that others just don't have. Maybe it's your honesty. Maybe it's your truthfulness. Maybe it's ? 
As you once said, everything is fate. So, I'll leave it up to that. If we're meant to see each other once more we will--if not, then I guess I'll live in memories of the past. But I surely hope once more.

Until then I'll think of seeing you in a field of flowers.

Baskingly Yours,
NicholleLee

Dear Astrid,

I can't quite figure out why I don't like you, but I don't.


You've been in the back of my mind ever since our first meeting--what was it, a month ago? But, I'm just not itching to see you again. I should be. You have a most incredible life. Speakeasies, flapper dresses, horses; it sounds divine. I mean look at you!! You're GORGEOUS. You're the modern day Daisy? I have no idea!


But, something about your attitude makes the hair on my arms stick up and I have a feeling we would not end up friends. And if we did, it would not end pretty.


Violet Baudelaire once told me first impressions are often wrong and I know she's right. I mean, if I just took the time to actually get to know you, I'm sure we'd get along just fine...right? But, I just can't seem to get over that first impression. I'm trying to listen to her, really I am!! You're still in the back of my head, that's got to count for something, yeah?


I'm sure you can tell your fair share of tales--I doubt you're one to sit home on Friday night and read. You're in New York, the Big City, the Red Apple, and I'm here...in Oklahoma. I mean, I'll admit, my life is not glamorous. I'd like to live vicariously through you, but at the same time I don't mind a quiet life filled with books and purring kittens. Something about you tells me you'd laugh at my trivial lifestyle. And, I'd stare awestruck, with my jaw dropped at yours. Lets switch for a day?


So, I guess I'm writing to say don't to give up on me just yet. It may take me a while, but I normally come around. I have a feeling we have the potential to be great friends...I'm just a little slow. And, you're probably pretty impatient...

So, until next time...maybe...


Slowly becoming yours,
NicholleLee

The Flappers, Vixen

I started reading Vixen today, the first in the series The Flappers. by Jillian Larkin It's about a young girl in Chicago living in the 1920's. About her life in the age of flappers. It is really promising so far and I can't put it down. Can't wait to review it here. Has a lot of potential I think!

NicholleLee

Dear Jane,

I was thinking about you last night and I had something quite profound to say--I can't think of it now.

ROCHESTER IS MARRIED!!!! WHAT?!?!

I was just as shocked as you. And I know a lot of people were probably scoffing at you for being so calm and collected and dejected in a way--not to mention the fact you actually debate if you're going to leave or not. But, I must, honestly, say: I would have probably more than likely done the same thing.

I know what I'm about to say would make a feminists teeth cringe, but.... Sometimes you're just meant to be with someone. Sometimes, I think, love can trump everything. If you're truly, whole-heartedly meant to be with someone--you will be. And how do we know that...I don't know if we know it, but I think our bodies do, or maybe our souls. I don't know...but something in us does. Does that make sense? I don't think you could be "mad" at Rochester because you love him too much. I think there are some things out of our control and I kind of think true love is. I think true love has so much power. It has the power to forgive, even when we, ourselves, as a thinking being thinks we shouldn't.

Not love, but true love--because I do think there's a difference. You could have loved Rivers--you could have learned to love the "comfort" he could give you, you could learn to love the safety he could give you, you could learn to love his companionship. You could learn to love him for what he had to offer you. But, that's what it would have been--love through companion... But, Rochester, with Rochester you couldn't learn to love him. You loved him without even knowing it. You loved him even when it was wrong. You couldn't even learn to NOT love him like you tried...

Jane! Jane! Jane

I'm coming. Wait for me.

It happened and you can't deny it. When you get proof like that--like the fact you were so many miles away and you "heard" each other. You had to go back. That, my dear, means you were meant to be. Like I said, some things are just out of our control.

So what's my whole point here....? Love. You may be just one case, but Jane, you're proof that love can conquer all. Love can conquer class, religion, monetary value, True love can conquer what we think would otherwise be impossible. So for all those people who laugh at love and spit on romance novels, songs, etc...maybe they just haven't really experienced what true love really is...

So, now I'm going to go put on Taylor Swift and I'm going to think about love and how at least you got it right.

Romantically Yours... (but, not in way of my being in love with you...)

NicholleLee Robertson.

Dear Hermione,

I think we're a lot alike. We're both the most studious out of our friends. We care about our grades. We don't break rules. And we have no friends... Hmm...I wonder if these above traits could have anything to do with that?? As I've grown up, I've come to realize that rules can or should be bent sometimes, not necessarily broken, but.... I've also learned that if I don't spend so much time studying and some time having a little bit of fun, it actually helps my studies--I know, crazy, right?! But, it's true---I wouldn't lie to a fellow bookworm. Taking some time for yourself will make you less stressed and give your brain a break, thusly allowing you to....remember. And, you wont be so snotty and stuck-up. Because lets be honest, you are....kind of. I mean, you clearly drive Harry and Ron insane and there's no point in denying that you've had a few cries because of the things people have said about you....

Actually, now that I think of it, that troll almost killing you was probably the best thing that ever happened to you. I mean, honestly. When you stare death in the face it changes a person--not that I really know. But, it seems now that you've learned this....some... But, following Ron and Harry around and acting as if you're friends when they're rolling their eyes at you and are (still) annoyed, doesn't count on friends.

I hope in your future at Hogwarts you will learn to loosen up a little bit--and have fun/make friends.

Only one of us needs to be obsessively studious...and I've held the torch longer and to be completely honest I'm not ready to give it up.... Sorry....

Studiously Yours,

NicholleLee Robertson

Dear Harry Potter,

I don't know you, but I look forward to when we get to know each other. Everyone just loves you and I think we'd make pretty great friends. I feel bad having neglected to introduce myself for so long now, but hopefully our years as friends will outweigh our years of not. Maybe now that you're not so popular you'll have time to spend with me. Maybe? Well. I was just wanting to say that I'm looking forward to our meeting.

Longingly Yours,

NicholleLee Robertson.

Dear Charles,

I know you're going to end up with Sarah, but I don't understand why. You and Ernestina are precisely so cute together. I'm not sure what to do, knowing what is going to happen. I find you quite fascinating and rather witty, but I do not understand why you have to ruin everything in talking to Sarah. Sure, she's a Damsel in distress, but Ernestina's sassy and clever--that's gotta count for something.

Just. Just don't do it. Don't do it. It's that simple. Seriously. Just walk away and ignore her. It's not that hard. Don't be one of those guys.

Either way, I can't stop thinking about you. I find your life and story most fascinating and need to know what's going to happen next--even if I do not tend to agree with it. Just give Ernestina another shot! I know you can be happy together! And, really...I mean...really, she just has so much more personality than Sarah does. I understand the romanticism of helping her and being her knight in shining armor, but Ernestina needs one too, and you've already promised to be hers...

It is just disgusting when people are unfaithful to their significant other, and you absolutely disgust me for doing that to Ernestina, but I can't help but needing more of you...

But, really...just forget about Sarah....

Impatiently Yours,

NicholleLee Robertson.

Dear Zits...,

I still have a hard time calling you that...but, since you choose not to tell I guess it must suffice.

Do you want to know what I think? Actually don't answer that, I know you don't care.

But, I think you're dreaming. I think you are in a coma or something and you're dreaming. I really do. I think in the end, you will have never actually turned into Hank, or the little Indian boy, or Gus. I think, maybe, in your head you'll think that stuff actually happened, but in reality it didn't.

I find you fascinating though. I think when you get out of whatever you're in you'll have it figured out. You wont feel so abandoned by your parents, you wont be the angry foster kid anymore. I think you'll have a new perspective. And I'm really excited to hear about it. I think you have such a story to tell and so much to say, and I really want to listen. So even if no one else will or wants to listen, I will. I think you're such an interesting person and I can't wait to spend more time with you.

But, I'm learning so much listening to your story: about wars, Indians, I think what you're traveling through (pun INTENDED) is important for everyone to read. I think it will give people a new perspective to not only see something through your eyes, an interracial Indian Juvenal delinquent orphan. And you're allowing us to get up close and personal with Indian wars, and actually learn about some of the horrors in them. You bring up some really good issues, even if you are crazy and don't really know what you're saying...

So....keep saying, even if it's not all right. Because I'm listening.

Time Traveling Yours,

NicholleLee Robertson.