Sent to Sarah.

So all the other (3) letters were straight from the heart. But since I want to write well, and from my logical (and still loving you) side, I’m writing on my comp. (That stands for “computer”, Sarah.)

So I love you still, let’s get that out of the way.

First: I am still moving to New York next summer, that’s a definite. Second. I am not going to that film school. It cost too much and the loan would be hell. So.

I got a second job, Sarah! And for the next I’ll be raising (roughly) 7 thousand dollars.

I go up to New York. And I work and live there for a year, you know, get acquainted with the town, etc, annnnd:

Become a New York resident. Which means I can transfer my Florida Pre-Paid up there for (roughly) The Exact Same Price.

This is my plan. And means when you’re a Senior?: I’m a Freshman. I still don’t know if I should get 4 year or just 2 for AA, etc. I mean, it all depends on if and where film goes somewhere.

But I’d like to be able to get a respectable job, assuming the worst.

I love you. I miss you a lot too. I hung out with Diana for the first time in a year and a half today.

You are so good. Like, I wanted to see what was left, ‘cause I saw her at Denny’s the other night (I hope I’m not boring you, I’m sorry if so) and she seemed really excited to see me.

But all the things changed. It was boring, uncomfortable, and when we said goodbye, her facial expressions and body language all cried “whatever”.

Whatever. I was extremely happy when I saw her at Denny’s, exhilarated. But I was happier riding home from her house (what a long ride that is), knowing that it was over.

And how, you know that old saying, like you have this dream, this want, and when you get it – you know, that thing. She’s like a hooker, or even masturbating. Good, but unfulfilling.

You are sex. You are making love. I have you and I’m happy with it, and it’s not some idea, like (sorry for saying like, but that’s how I’m thinking) we’re right, as friends, or even as (we could use the Diana body language phrasing) whatever.

I was thinking of how during Leigh I would always talk about how me and her were soul mates, and I don’t know a lot of other Bull Shit.

With you I don’t have to. All I have to do is think of you and I feel like “hey, I’ll see you tomorrow” like,” I had a great time, can’t wait till next” and “kiss me stupid”.

You’re so beautiful. (Okay, this rapidly turned from logical to mushy in a moments time.)

So. Just so you know, when you first went (left for NY) I became better friends with Amanda (as in I got lonely and saw her more) and we cuddled a few times and she makes me horny, but I’m done with that now. I just wanted touch. I stopped calling her, I’m wrong, I’m a bad person for it, but she’s like a puddle crying out to the sky “rain on me, make me deeper!”. You know what I mean.

She’s a little hollow.

And You’re Beautiful.

I’d like to room with you someday, if not, that’s okay, I wanna be friends forever, if not, nokay. No. Not gonna happen, and I’ll be angry if it does, and I’ll write bad about you in my diary, and in my scripts, and I’ll love you still and I won’t do most of that stuff, maybe I will, but I’ll always love you.

I hope you’re having a great time with the handicap. (Singular.) I probably shouldn’t joke about that. I’m sure they’re all nice.

Whenever the phone rings (cell) I jump to it hoping it’s you. It never is now. But it’s fine.

I’m scared to go to the airport with them but I will, I don’t want to get jealous of you being lovey dovey with Nathan more than me. But I will.

And when you get back I’ve had So Much inspiration since you’ve been gone. So many ideas (one of which you inspired, ask about “Mia” when you get back) ILOVEYOU.

I wanna use bad grammar. As in “I wanna you’s bad grammar.” I like that.

I’m sending pictures with this, and I hope you like some at least. I’m sorry it took me so long to send all these off. You know I get sidetracked.

But now I’m a locomotive. (Does that mean crazy-reasonfordoingsomething in Spain. No, I’m Stupid.)

Call me. The best part of my day is when mommy calls and I have a letter waiting for me.

I keep talking. All this nonsense could go away by just looking in your brown eyes.

I need to stop talking now, I’m annoying myself.

I wish you the best in life, I hope you marry your soul mate, I want you to know I’m always just here, and that you can always huggle with me. And bite me. And kiss me. And look in my eyes.

Jon.