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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Gen. Hartigan and Nancy.
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, and why you liked/disliked them.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Title and quote from here.
Summary: Four years and she’s still not distracted.
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“we will fix our hearts over,
the south wind says so.”
--The South Wind Says So, Carl Sandburg
* * *
Dear Hartigan,
We broke up. God, I hope you can still read this letter through all the blots. I would write it again, but I’m down to my last sheet of paper and I don’t want to leave my room because of how blotchy my face is. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but I’m sniffling anyway. It’s a good thing you can’t see me because of how disgusting I look.
I don’t know what went wrong. Everyone is telling me that it wasn’t my fault, that boys suck or that everyone goes through this, but that doesn’t help much. Maybe it wasn’t my fault, but it still hurts me. And maybe everyone breaks up at least once in their lives, but that’s them, not me. This is my first break-up, and it wasn’t very nice.
I guess I should be glad that it wasn’t because he was cheating, or smacking me around. For a while a friend of mine hung out with this guy who was always bossing her, telling her what to wear and calling her bad names like the high-schoolers use. We were constantly telling her to stop putting up with it, but...well, he was the biggest kid in school. It’s a good thing she has an older brother that’s even bigger, but he should have come home from the army sooner.
I’m still crying. I feel like an idiot. I don’t think I loved him or anything like that, because we’re way too young and I still giggled whenever he tried to kiss me, but he was still really fun to be around, most of the time. He made me laugh. And on Valentine’s Day he hid roses in my locker, and they must have been really expensive. I’m going to miss him. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, and I don’t care. I miss him already.
And here I am, talking about my stupid little problems. I heard a fight broke out in the prison and some inmates got hurt, and I prayed really hard that you weren’t one of them. I don’t know where you are, and I don’t know how to find out, and it bothers me. When I get to high school next year, I bet I’ll be able to find out. I’m getting really good at looking up things. My English teachers always really like my reports, and I spend less time on them than a lot of other people because I know where to look for books. Do you get books? I’ll try to write longer letters when I get more paper, just in case. I can write you summaries about the stuff we have to read in class. It’s probably too kiddie for you, but it’s the best I can do.
Thinking of you,
Cordelia
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