This is the first of a few letters I sent to Sara, a girl I liked in Flatbush Park Day Camp (I was pathetic in my relationships even back then). I was a little reluctant to post this, but seeing as I'm letting it all hang out, here goes. The later letters are actually much tamer.

Dear Sara,

Hello there. I want to start by apologizing for that pretty awful phone conversation we had the week before you left. I think the problem was a combination of my incredible phone-talk abilities, with your unenthusiastic responses. Whatever. I am kind of upset I didn’t get to say goodbye to you. So, I figured I would say it in this letter. I’m probably being foolish for writing this, but I figured you deserved to know what was going on inside my twisted excuse for a cerebral cortex.

I probably should have talked to you about what I’m about to delve into, but I find I have trouble expressing myself about certain things with the spoken word. Silly I guess, but I’ve always had this problem. Writing ideas down allows me the chance to edit emotional comments to appear as they were intended. With spoken ideas I don’t have the same luxury and I think that scares me. Enough self-psycho-analytical-mumbo-jumbo.

I must admit that I really grew to like you this summer. I think it started happening last summer, but you quite efficiently seemed to blow me off then. So, being the ever-patient, thick-skinned, tortoise of an individual that I am, I persevered and tried again this summer. I’m pretty bad at communicating how I feel directly, but I was hoping some of my hints and invitations didn’t completely go over your head (which of course isn’t that hard, with you being three feet tall and everything.)

I keep thinking of why I like you. You’re too short for me, way too happy and definitely too friendly and outgoing as a person (and the fact that everyone loves you doesn’t help either!) Of course, you do happen to be extremely intelligent (for a girl of course), have a sick and twisted sense of sadistic humor (akin only to the great one himself – me in case you were a little slow in translation), be drop-dead gorgeous, and of course have a decent philosophically-able head on your shoulders. All of these things earn you little gold stars in my book.

I’m not writing this in hopes of anything happening with us in the future. You have a full year in the mother land, and at least four (if not eight) more years of college ahead of you. A lot will happen during that time with you, and although I’d love to be there when it does, I would never want to invade or hinder your growth during that period. I just wanted you to know how I felt, and still feel. Of course you are probably sitting there in your tent (do they have buildings in Israel?) and having yourself a good laugh over this poorly written letter, but what’s a poor unemployed ex-student to do?

Speaking of my employment, I do have future plans. I got my last two rejection letters from law schools over the last week or so. The Duke one hit me kinda hard. I was still hoping beyond hope to get in there. Oh well. The Fordham one was kind of funny. To think, they rejected me? After I saw the caliber of people they let in. Sigh. If only I had applied on time, or taken time to actual read and completely fill out the applications.

Anyway, back to my future plans. I had the interview for the job in Washington D.C. I bored you about before. They seemed enthusiastic about hiring me. But, I’ll see if I can find something closer to home before I agree to anything. I think I’ll work for a year (like I have so many options left open to me now), and then reapply to law school (or graduate school) for next year. I’m thinking of doing a joint program, perhaps in law and computer science. Or maybe going for a Ph.D. in Computer Science (what a geek!) Not too sure yet. But I definitely need (okay, more like want) to go back and further my education.

I visited my roommate from college. He goes to Syracuse Medical School now. He was telling me about the gross anatomy class he was taking (you know, where they cut up dead people), and it’s pretty much a requirement. No getting past it with a nice smile, or a little show of leg. He had a book chock-full of colored photographs of different pieces of cadavers in different stages of dissection. Really fascinating stuff. But it’s still dead people, and I have problems with dead people (the problem revolves mostly around the fact that they’re not alive anymore), so I don’t think medical school is for me. It is a shitload (excuse the French?) of work, but worth it for those two little letters after your name (and of course the six digit salary on your pay slip.)

I just finished reading Chaim Potok’s The Chosen. I’m pretty sure it was a movie (I think I saw it.) It was about this religious Jew who befriends a Hasidic Jew. The beginning has a baseball game in which the Hasidic Jew injures the religious Jew. It takes place during the 1940’s in Brooklyn (ring any bells?) Anyway, it was pretty good reading. Just wondering if you ever read it. The commentary on Hasidic life was quite interesting. It of course got me thinking; which in turn got me to write this letter. Don’t ask how the two connect. It was perhaps divine inspiration (I am convinced by the way, that I am the next Messiah.) It dealt a lot with the studying of the Talmud. I think I should take a look at it. So many people talk about it, it can’t be all bad? But of course the problem still is that silly Hebrew language. Can’t people just all speak and write one language? Wouldn’t the world be a happier place? Perhaps flowers would bloom in the winter and insects mate in the summer? Dare I dream? Damn that tower of Babylon. I curse thee! Argh, what is becoming of me?

I think I should do some more serious reading into Jewish works. Figure that’s the only way to truly rule it in or out of my life. You never know, maybe I’ll turn into one of those black wearing, Talmud toting, tzitzi (SP?) wearing, earlock non-shaven Jews. Although I think I’d place my money on something a hell of a lot less severe (the money refers to a bet of some sort in case your literary analogy translator is not in ship-shape condition – heard Israel does that to people.)

I wonder if I’ll ever send this letter out to you. We’ll see if my guts hold up to it. If you get it, then I guess you’ll know the answer. If not. . .well, you’ll never know of its existence. Just think of that poor tree that feel in the forest with no one to hear its crash.

It has been nice speaking to you (albeit, my speaking and your supposed listening), and I hope to do this again. But, that would involve you picking up the pen (or a keyboard if you have as bad penmanship as I do) and writing back sometime. If for nothing else than the sheer pleasure to poke fun at me. I do hope to hear from you eventually, and maybe visit you next semester when I visit my sister? Good luck in everything. And if you do write, I want to hear about your school, and Israel, and all the guys lusting after you, etc., etc. You can try writing me at my e-mail address (DavidFig@ix.netcom.com), or a paper letter (e.g., this one.) I miss you! And think about you often! Write back soon (if you have any heart!)

Love,