Post by evelia on Dec 25, 2010 3:32:09 GMT -5
evelia selene parker.
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[/CENTER]SEVENTEEN. SENIOR. USA. ELLIE GOULDING. ADMIN EDIT.
I know it's not much but
It's the best I can do.
My gift is my song and
This one's for you.
“Spencer Elizabeth Hale,
It’s funny, the first time I met you I introduced myself as Evelia Parker. At the time you probably thought I was crazy or a neurotic liar for backtracking, but later on you figured it out. Since the age of four, I have not gone by Evelia, choosing instead the much simpler and less grand title of Evie. You agreed at one point that Evelia seemed much more grand and destined for someone going places; shortly after that you said it fit me absolutely perfectly. It drove me crazy how you knew, you just knew, that I was destined for more than what Bellflower, California could offer me. I disagreed completely with you, renouncing my name of Evelia when you would insist upon calling me that. Finally, after weeks of nonsense, you caved and promised that one day I would see where you were coming from with your logic and that I would one day agree: Evelia does fit me. I’m not saying I agree with you, because that means I’m wrong and you’re right – something you know I would not admit if it meant my life was spared. You hated how I couldn’t admit anything if it meant I was wrong, so it increased my habit of doing it. But now, when you aren’t in my life, I’ve come to realize it was stupid, me denying that you were right <i>just because I could.</i> God, when I look back, you were right so frequently. Those silly spats we had were exciting and it meant you would try your hardest to prove you were in fact right, because you hated being wrong too, and we were closer. In my stage of pathetic denial, I needed a way to be close with you without having to admit that I wanted to be closer; I guess I never really grew past that silly stage even after I admitted to myself who I was.
I told you my life story once. It took a pathetically short amount of time to tell you everything and that saddened me as I listed to you tell me your life story for hours after I had finished. I tried to think of some life changing event that I’d perhaps forgotten, making the story quite a bit shorter, but there wasn’t anything. The fact was your life was a million times more interesting than mine could ever be, and for some reason I envied that. I saw the lack of love that existed in your family; I saw the absolute hate and betrayal; I saw the scandal; I saw the raw, bloody insides of your family and for some reason that God only knows, I wanted my life to resemble yours just a bit. Slowly, over the time that I knew you, my life did begin to change and more closely resemble yours. Now I’m not saying you ruined my life or anything along those lines, because that would be a blatant, horrible, far-fetched lie. Sure my family could say you tore us apart, but in my opinion, you made my life better. You showed me the lies that existed within my ‘perfect’ world. I thank you and I love you so deeply for that. Mostly, I thank you for leading me down the path to finding myself. Everyone has a journey at some point in their life where they find themselves, and I happened to be lucky enough to have you to travel that path with me.
I grew up in Oklahoma, the most pathetic excuse of a state that there ever was. The ho-dunk town Daniel and I grew up in is where the stereotypes of rednecks were born. Every stereotype you’ve heard about them, is completely true. I joked with you about them before, but you didn’t believe me. It was bad. We were lucky to get out of there without the hick accent. The shock we got when we moved though was enough to make me miss our old home. We moved two weeks into my eighth grade year and I was terrified. Daniel and my adopted brother Steven teased me for a week saying that California kids are vicious – that they would tear me apart in a heartbeat. God was I lucky when I met you though. I remember that very first time I met you. I was walking into English class for the first time. The class was huge and they were all whispering and pointing at me; my nerves were killing me and I felt as if I were going to faint. Mrs. Dumount sent me to the back of the class to sit next to you. As I sat down, I remember thinking, ‘Shit, she had to sit me next to the most intimidating person here.’ And you were, you got me to cuss back when I didn’t say a thing. In the entire class you were the most beautiful and intense. As soon as my bag hit the floor I heard my heart pounding in my chest, and I’m sure you heard it pounding too. But then you surprised me; while we were listening to Mrs. Dumount speak, you slid a piece of paper to me. Written on the scrap were two words, Spencer Hale. It took me a few moments to realize that was your name, and then I blushed. It wasn’t just a typical slight red tint to my cheeks either; it was like fire blazed beneath my skin turning me bright red. I know you noticed too because I heard you laugh quietly. It was weird, to blush considering I rarely did and that it wasn’t really a blush worthy situation. The rest of class passed without a word, though you did wink at me as you left class for your next period.
The next time you spoke to me, it was a Friday. It was odd too; you hadn’t said anything to me since English on Monday. You had turned to me as Mrs. Dumount played a movie on the flickering projector. Confidence radiated off of you, something that I’ve come to miss now that I’m gone. When you spoke, your words were not hushed like the others around us; you knew no trouble would befall you. “You never told me your name.” It was simple, something I could have expected from anyone, but again it made me blush intensely. That’s when I spoke my name in a slightly shushed voice, “Evelia Parker.” I don’t know why, but I feel like because I said Evelia instead of Evie, it changed something. For some reason, I think that if I had said Evie, a different tone would have befallen our friendship, though we would have ended up in the same place eventually. Everything began with those two words that I spoke that were quickly retracted and replaced. I remember moments clearly. You know that. I can’t remember anything my mother tells me for my life, or things that I probably should remember, but I remember events clearly and perfectly down to the polka dotted headband you wore in your thick, wavy, black hair. I remember your eyes were accented with a smudge of black eyeliner and that your lips were too red to be natural – though they were obviously beautiful. I remember the way you tapped your perfectly manicured nails – tap, tap, pause, tap, pause, tap, tap – on the table as I stammered out my name. And I remember the smile that crossed your lips when you invited me out with you to the movies the next day. The entire scene is remembered so perfectly in my mind that it closely resembles a movie. Honestly, every moment that I’ve spent with you is remembered perfectly, the good and the bad, because I longed for you every moment of every day. You were a drug that I needed so deeply. Never before had I been dependent on anything, until I met you, and that drove me crazy.
My parents are heavily influenced by the church. Growing up I was forced to attend regularly, something that changed when I reached age twelve. Every decision they made was righteous and perfect in God’s eyes. When I was thirteen and Daniel sixteen, my parents adopted two other children, Gideon Angelica and Steven Dane. Though I never told you directly, I feel like you knew, the reason Daniel and I suspected our parents adopted was because they felt us to be complete failures. Daniel had already started to dabble in drugs – weed and liquor mostly – and I had already faded into the background. The praise Gideon and Steven received almost constantly was so new to our family. Not once had Daniel or I received praise. When I brought home a straight A report card, it wasn’t good enough. When Daniel kicked ass at a football game, my father always found some fault in his actions. We were failures. After I met you and we became friends, you noticed the subtle hints that lived in our household, alluding to the darker secrets lurking beneath the surface. After asking incessantly, I finally told you everything – it was the day I told you my life story. We were laying in your bed, my head in your lap and my legs resting on the windowsill as you leaned against the wall and ran your fingers through my hair. That was also the first time I admitted my love for you. Then it was a friendship kind of love, or at least I tried to mask it as that. You saw beneath that surface easily though.
The summer beneath 8th and 9th grade we grew close. That’s when we established the all important status of ‘best friend.’ We grew to become inseparable. Daniel came to recognize us as one person. You were my bad influence, but I loved it. The first time I really came to realize I had feelings for you other than those of friendship was during the winter of our freshman year. It was the middle of December and pouring rain. You’d convinced me to ditch school with you and go to the beach – a place you loved more than life itself. After finally agreeing, we’d found Daniel, Steven, and a few of their friends, and left. Daniel, who loved the rain, drove like a mad man while Steven complained in the passenger seat. Their friends, whose names I do not remember, took the middle row of seats and bitched about how cramped it was while you and I sat in the back playing hot-hands or punch buggy. We had no idea how different everything would be in just a few hours. The moment we arrived at the beach Steven took off, looking for a bathroom, while Daniel followed behind – laughing. You and I walked along the shore though, our shoes and socks in our hands as we walked in the wet surf. The rain drizzled down but we didn’t care: we were so free. That feeling we got was so rare and so perfect. Though my brothers and their friends were only a hundred feet or so down the shore, we felt completely alone on the beach. We finally found a nice spot to sit and rest at and we sat there and talked. At one point we started Questions and you asked, “Be completely honest about one thing I don’t already know.” It wasn’t really a question, but we never really asked questions, just stated statements. Mentally, I thought of a million different things that I could say, but there was only one thing that I really wanted to. It was spoken slowly, not blurted out like I figured it would be, “I think I might be falling in love with you.” My cheeks burned red, this time in an appropriate situation as I waited for your answer. As a few minutes passed, my eyes eventually closed and I felt so stupid. You responded, though not how I was expecting and not with words; you kissed me. I was shocked and you were smiling. It was then that you admitted you’d had feelings for me since you’d met me, over a year ago. The entire car ride back we held hands, fascinated with the entire aspect of being together. My life changed that day and I loved that.
We kept our relationship hidden, though Daniel and Steven figured it out quickly. They knew we were more than friends – they had figured it for months. The fact that they promised not to tell my parents made me feel closer to them and I loved that. You and I continued to grow stronger throughout our freshman year. I loved you and you loved me, it was as simple and as beautiful as that. I wrote you songs and played them to you on my guitar and keyboard. My passion for music and the many instruments that I could play fascinated you, so I constantly tried to impress you. You told me that one day I was going to become a famous musician and that I would forget about you, but I said that would never happen, and I mean it, even now. Regardless of what happened between us and what will happen in the future, you were my first love and always will be.
The summer passed quickly and we were in school again too soon. I hated school, though I excelled in it, and you tried to make it better for me. You’d promise me silly things if I stayed obedient and of course I complied. I loved you too much to disobey. It was around the beginning of tenth grade that I started to receive the letters from Kostine Academy. You encouraged me to go and pursue my talents, but I refused to leave you. When you’d finally forced me into asking my parents about it, they shot me down. They told me I wouldn’t succeed and that it would be a waste of my time and their money. They were adamant to not let me go and you, not me, were disappointed. It was towards the end of our tenth grade year that we slipped up. It was an abnormally warm March night and you had spent the night. Like any other time, we’d spent a while kissing and making out until we’d fallen asleep. This time though, we didn’t fall asleep early and when my mother walked in to check on us on her way to bed, she found us kissing. She’d been so disgusted that she’d kicked you out, forcing you to walk the three miles home. Her screaming had been so loud that Daniel and Steven had wondered what was going on and walked in on me bawling. They came to my side instantly and forced my mother out of my room. As I cried they consoled me, telling me that she would let up eventually and that everything would be alright. As you well know, they were sorely wrong.
I was shunned by my parents and Gideon, their favorite daughter. Daniel and Steven tried to help me often, but they couldn’t disobey our parents too much, for their own sake. We continued to speak and meet in secrecy for awhile. At night I would either sneak out and go to your place, or I’d sneak you into mine. When my father caught you in my room during the late summer, he threatened to kick me out of the house. Everything became tricky around this time. They threatened me with military school and gay reforms. They said if they caught me with you again that I would be banned from the house indefinitely. You sought after my attention and wanted me, and God did I want you. I wanted us to be happy and together like we had the year prior. School started and we saw each other less frequently. Daniel and Steven tried to help me see you, but it was difficult. The final time I was caught with you, my parents gave me an ultimatum – with you present. They said it was you or them. And if I picked you, it meant I got nothing. I would pack my belongings that could not be returned or given to Gideon and never speak again to my family. All my life I sought after their acceptance and love and I was so close to losing it. In a moment of bad judgment where I was put on the spot, I picked my family over you, the one person who had ever understood me and loved me completely.
In fear that I would go back to you, my parents finally agreed to send me to Kostine. I started late into the term, but it was fine. It was a chance for my parents to get rid of their imperfect child and ‘fix me of my disease.’ I never got a chance to say goodbye, but I knew you wouldn’t have cared. You hated me for choosing them. After all that we had been through, I betrayed you. When I arrived at Kostine, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Spencer Elizabeth Hale, you are so important in my life that I can’t even imagine where I would be had I not met you, had I been forced to sit next to another person in Mrs. Dumount’s English class.
I hope that one day you’ll be able to forgive me for everything. I hope that you’ll open this letter and remember the day at the beach where I first told you that I loved you, love that just friends did not share. I hope you’ll remember lying in bed and talking about the future we were destined to have together. I hope you’ll remember riding bikes through town in the pouring rain. I hope you’ll remember the electricity that we felt when we kissed. And I hope, more than anything, that you’ll write me back and say you forgive me. I don’t know when I’ll have the courage to send this letter because I’m terrified of what you’ll say. I don’t know if I’ll send it in fifteen minutes, two days, a week, three months, five years, fifty years. I don’t know if you’ll even remember me when you open this letter, but I hope you do. I hope you remember Evelia Selene Parker, the girl who loves you indefinitely.
jenn. 16. pacific. loads. pm/email.
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