Dear Anonymous Girl

Dear Anonymous Person,

I got your anonymous comment on one of my poems (from a bedroom window, the sea) and it's baffled the hell out of me since. It reads:

You hurt me. And I can't yet forgive you for that. Get out of my head.

Look here, anonymous person, this isn't the forum for whatever the hell you want to talk about (as I assume it's not about something fun, like high-fives, video games or candy). Also, I can't think of any dudes I know that would write a quick bite that. If a guy did that, it would be, "You were a dick to me. Fuck you forever." Also, they'd still include their name, I bet. So, naturally, I assume you are of the female variety, and a passive-aggressive member of your gender at that.

Well, listen, lady, I've been hurting girls for as long as I've understood them as people, creatures, things and dreams I've wanted, so you're going to have to be more specific. Sure, it's more emotional hurt now, since we're very much adults at this point. But, when I was younger, it was physical hurt. I mean, I threw dirt clods and rocks at my first crush in third grade and she probably still wasn't entirely sure who I was.

"Why is that tall kid throwing stuff at me? Also, why is his shirt tucked in? Why does he wear such abnormally long socks?" I can only assume she wondered.

I swear, all that shit made sense to me in third grade, everything from the rocks to the socks.

However, I didn't hurt my second crush. But all of that bottled up insanity had to go somewhere, right? Right! So, instead, I just stared at her like some young serial killer (with a better fashion sense gained in the two-year gap) and just made fun of other girls in our class. So I suppose I hurt her by hurting her friends. I guess it wasn't physical. Also, I don't know if I really hurt her friends. I think it made me more popular with her friends actually. Fifth grade was pretty weird, now that I think about it.

In junior high, I threw paper airplanes at the girl I liked while also relentlessly making fun of her, so it was physical and emotional, I imagine. Well, guess what, everyone? That was middle school. Everything sucked and everyone hurt. My proudest moment then was when I flipped out and poured a full can of soda on some bully, and even that was closer to instant death than actual momentary hurt.

In high school, I just sort of collapsed as a person when I saw my teenage crush. I just spat out insane gibberish about the romantic poets and plays I wanted to see. I lied about musicians I enjoyed and what I wanted out of life. Under the pressure of not being who I thought I should be, I disappeared from her phone bill, but reappeared over and over in her diary, probably in furious cursive. I hurt her. But, hey, we were teenagers. Everything hurt and we sort of loved the agony. Every teenager is a masochist and a sadist. That's no excuse, but at least she had just cause for leaving an anonymous comment on a blog...if they even existed ten years ago.

My early college years was just one long wake of the wrecking ball. People got hurt, but everything was happening too fast too notice. Sorry. If you're from that era, I'm going to need your name, number and wherever the hell we met just to have a starting point of clearing this shit up.

And, if you're from my adventures in adulthood and you want to tell me what this is all about, contact me like a normal person. We're engaging mature people with livelihoods and well-developed communication skills. If I hurt you, then you obviously have an e-mail address or phone number of mine. I've learned a thing or two in the last handful of years. If we didn't talk things out, then there was a miscommunication. Maybe you weren't listening to me. I've been very clear as of the last two years, but I'm willing to admit that I didn't understand you or maybe misheard you. Also, let's not rule out the possibility that you were spouting off some nutty bullshit (though I am, of course, biased in the matter). I love trying to figure out the dynamics of relationships now. It's like a game. Shit, it's like Operation and I'm trying not to touch the sides while I remove your broken heart.

So, hey, anonymous girl, hit me up like how we were whenever the heck whatever the hell happened and we'll figure things out. I assume. I still have no idea who you are, what I did or why you're still so mad about it. Furthermore, you're just feeding my ego by telling me I'm still in your head. That's like...the worst combination of three sentences. All you did was build me up from terrible to great.

1) You hurt me - I feel guilt, as I don't want to hurt anyone.
2) And I can't yet forgive you for that - I feel indifference, since it sounds like you'll just let me know when you come around.
3) Get out of my head - I feel pride, for being thought about so often by someone who doesn't want to like me. Maybe sort of like a Sam and Diane thing, eh...?*

So, thank you, uncommunicative girl that I may or may not recall, your comment has left me aglow. I wish you the best of luck in your wild endeavors and look forward to one day discovering what exactly you're talking about or referring to. I'm a huge fan of mysteries.

This is all, of course, if I do actually know you. If that comment was left by just some random nobody, as a joke or whatever, well...ok, that's pretty goddamn funny. I'm probably going to start doing that on other people's blogs. Thanks for the idea.

Love,
Jake


*If you haven't done so already, check out Cheers on Netflix's Instant Stream. It has all 11 seasons and it's seriously the best show.