Chapter Text
Rebecca,
I’m not really sure how to start this. Or how to continue it. Or why I’m doing this in the first place.
Alright, that’s not entirely true. Telling you why feels too much like I’m accusing you of something, though. On the other hand, not telling you why might be demanding too much without an explanation…
Maybe it would be better if I talk to myself? Then you can read this or throw it away and it won’t matter because it’s not really a letter for you. It’s a letter for me that I just happen to be sending to you. That’s worth a shot, at least. Right?
So, I’m writing to Rebecca Bunch even though she hurt my feelings and I’m still not over it. Maybe a bit because she hurt my feelings and I’m still not over it.
But, honestly, more because when I think about home, Rebecca is what comes to mind. Everything else—George coming into my office uninvited with something idiotic to say, weekend runs with White Josh, the long stretches of highway between West Covina and LA—comes in secondary waves. First and foremost, it’s Rebecca’s face.
If I keep up the honesty, which is part of my whole being a better person campaign—honesty with myself, that’s part of the reason I can’t let go of my hurt feelings even though I’m well over 2,000 miles away and doing something that’s challenging and fun in a way work never has been before. Because I’ve never been attached to an idea of home before but, lately, when I think about how far away I am, I get this embarrassing pang. Rebecca specifically didn’t choose me, but I can’t help feeling like I betrayed and abandoned home by moving so far away from her.
I guess that was a lot of words to say I’m homesick, but that’s the whole pathetic truth.
Anyway, I’m not so pathetic that I hope things are going poorly for Rebecca. If she decides to respond to this, I hope she has some good news about how her life is going.
…I’m not really sure how to end this. So.
- N