Work Text:
15th September 2003
Dear Dave,
I feel kind of strange writing you a letter, which is so stupid because it was my idea in the first place. Not that I regret it, because I don’t. Rory approves too. She was just telling me the other day how it’s so sad that the art of letter writing is dying out, now that everybody has phones and emails and the ability to sent text messages. Can you imagine a day when letters just won’t exist? People just won’t send them at all, and we will be some of the rare ones left in the world that know how, because we got all this practice. Not that I’m only writing to you for practical reasons, obviously.
Here was me worrying I wouldn’t know what to write when I sat down here, and already, I’m filling up so much space. Some of that is my large penmanship, but I guess that’s okay. You did say you didn’t really care what I wrote, you just wanted to hear from me, right? I’m sure that’s what you said. Maybe it was me that said that.
Anyway, how is everything at UCLA? I keep trying to picture you there, in the classrooms and on the lawn that we saw in that brochure you showed me. Of course, then I imagine you meeting great new people and enjoying all your classes so much, and I get this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s okay, it’s just jealousy. I’m a little green around the edges because Seventh Day Adventist College is just as awful as I thought it would be. Also, because I know that you’re meeting California girls. From the way the Beach Boys sang about them, I’m pretty sure I could never compete.
I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a downer. I am honestly happy for you, getting into the college you wanted and everything. I guess it’s just because I miss you so much, and not only because the band is suffering without you, which it is. I know we have to get a replacement, even though I really don’t want to think about replacing you, in any part of my life, obviously. It’s just hard. Zach and Brian don’t make it any easier, but then, they’re Zach and Brian, so I don’t really know what else I expected.
Since you’re probably super busy with new classes and settling in and everything, I guess I should end this here. Hope to hear back from you really soon.
Lane
30th September 2003
Dear Lane,
You’re not wrong that it does feel a little strange to sit down and write a letter like this, but it’s also very cool to be keeping an old tradition alive. Modern technology is great - I mean, without Bob Moog and his synthesizer, where would we be? No eighties classics, like Soft Cell’s cover of ‘Tainted Love’ or Sparks’ ‘Number One Song in Heaven’ - but that doesn’t mean that the piano just went out of style and nobody uses it anymore. What would ‘Dream On’ be without Steven Tyler’s intro? Not to mention most of Elton John’s back catalogue. The world would be a scary place if every modern advancement totally erased what came before.
So, yes, I’m glad we’re keeping letter writing alive, not least because you’re the one I’m writing to. Too corny? I’m sorry, it probably is, but I have to admit, for all the good things that have come out of me moving here, and there are a lot, I am missing you pretty badly. I’d say that’s not exactly very rock ‘n’ roll of me, but hey, there are a million songs about people missing the one they love, right? I can think of three right now that are literally called ‘Missing You’. I really do miss you, Lane,
I’m sorry college isn’t working out the way you hoped. Maybe after the first year, if you could just explain to your mom how awful it is, she might actually let you go someplace else? As I’m writing this, I’m realising how dumb it sounds. I mean, I know we got prom more or less the way we wanted it, but I guess actually thinking Mrs Kim might change her mind and let you go to a real college? Probably a huge leap too far.
I feel like this letter should be a whole lot longer than it is, and I swear, I’ll work harder on the next one, but I have so much studying to do, I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back and add more. Leaving it on my desk indefinitely is just going to leave you wondering if I’ll ever write back, and that’s not cool. So, I’ll just mail it today and hope you won’t mind that it’s not longer.
Keep on keeping on,
Dave
12th October 2003
Dear Dave,
Your letter wasn’t too short at all. Honestly, if it were just a couple of lines, I don’t think I would mind. Okay, so maybe I would if it was literally that short, but you know what I mean. Some of the greatest songs every written were on the shorter side. For every ‘Waterloo Sunset’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, there’s a ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ and a ‘White Riot’. What I’m saying is that it’s quality over quantity, and every letter from you is going to be worth a lot to me.
Of course, I’m also saying this because I’m having some problems finding adequate space and time to write long letters myself. Mrs Kim is always checking what it is that I’m writing and whether it’s for school or not. You know how she can be. Of course, I know she means well, I really do, and maybe she would even be okay with knowing that it’s you I’m writing to. She does like you a lot, but in the end, you are still male and I am still me. I can just see a lot of censorship in our future if she found out about our letter writing, so I would rather keep it from her, at least for now.
I really hope you’re not struggling too much with your classload. Rory says Yale is kind of kicking her butt on that score, but she also loves it, as far as I can tell. I’ve never known anyone as into academia as her, so it’s possible she actually enjoys being almost killed by the pressures of school. Honestly, right now, I think she likes the distraction, with Jess being gone and everything. As hard as it is having you so far away, at least I know you still care about me. At least we have letters. All Rory has is a hole in her life where her boyfriend used to be, and no idea where he is or if he’s ever coming back. Even her birthday didn’t seem to cheer her up at all. I wish I knew what to do about that, but honestly, I don’t know where to start.
On a happier note, only six weeks to go now until Thanksgiving. Not that I suppose you’ll make it home for that. Christmas though, right? I’m really counting on Christmas. Even Mama couldn’t possibly object me seeing you when you come home for one of the most important holidays in the Christian calendar. Is it weird that I already bought your gift? Maybe I am spending a little too much time wishing for the end of the year already, but I just can’t help it. California is so far away. Couldn’t you have gotten into a school on the east coast? No, sorry, I shouldn’t have written that. I know it’s not fair, but it’s like you said in your letter, I just miss you. I really, really do.
Hold your head up,
Lane
30th October 2003
Dear Lane,
Believe me, there have been plenty of times in the last few weeks when I have wondered why I was so desperate to go to school over here. Don’t get me wrong, UCLA is a great school, the courses are great, and the people aren’t so bad either. I’m even getting used to the wall-to-wall sunshine and it definitely doesn’t suck to be so close to Dan Tana’s, the Morrison Hotel, the Capitol Records building, and the old Ocean Way recording studios (even if they have been renamed), but at the end of the day, it’s not home.
I had no idea how much I would miss Connecticut and my parents and just my own room and stuff. I knew exactly how much I would miss you and am suffering accordingly, but I had hoped the experience would turn out to be worth a little sacrifice. I would only tell you this, but I’m already seriously considering the fact I may have been wrong.
I should probably also apolgise for how long it’s taken me to get back to you. I swear I sat down to write a reply at least eight times, but there always seem to be an assignment waiting on me, or reading to do, or just room-mates making noise or something. There’s just never a good time to write, and every time I tried to start, I knew my letter would be exactly how this one is turning out - depressing.
Right now, no amount of upbeat music is getting me out of the funk. I almost burst my ear-drums blasting everything from The Ramones and AC/DC, to Weezer and Bowling for Soup non-stop, but none of it made a difference. Any recommendations beyond what I already tried? I would so appreciate the help right now, you have no idea.
Really hoping that college is better for you now than it was before. At least one of us needs to be having a decent experience, though I guess it’s a little much to hope that Seventh Day Adventist College has gotten any cooler in the last couple of months. Pray for me, please. I’m being very serious right now. I don’t know how much more of this I can take before I completely crack up.
That said, please try not to worry about me too much. I’m having a weird melodramatic spell and I will get over it. At least some of this was written the morning after a keg party and one thing I have learned really fast is that depressed me and beer don’t mix well together.
Hold this thread as I walk away,
Dave.
14th November 2003
Dear Dave,
Is it bad that, as much as I hate to know you’re suffering, I’m also kind of happy to know you might seriously consider coming home soon? I mean, you can transfer to an east coast school if you want to, I’m sure. You did get into more than just UCLA, after all, and your parents would probably be thrilled at the way lower travel costs and having you close by again, right?
Sorry, I’m probably not being very fair and balanced about this, but it’s so hard not having you around. Whether it’s rock ‘n’ roll or not, I don’t care. I would give pretty much anything to have you come home again. Seriously, I would give up my drums. I’m actually considering saying I would give up one of my arms. Don’t worry, in time, I would be able to drum again. It never stopped Rick Allen and it wouldn’t stop me either.
Wow, I just can’t get past the fact that you seem to really be considering coming home to stay. I’m sure a good girlfriend would give you all the reasons why it would be better to stick at it at UCLA, and remind you what a great opportunity it is and everything. Maybe that means I’m actually a really bad girlfriend, but I can’t help it, I have to say that I really hope you choose to come back and go to school here in Connecticut, or at the very least in the New England area. Honetsly, if you didn’t want to go to college at all, I would absolutley respect that too. I mean, none of the greats went to college. Hendrix, Bowie, all four of The Beatles, they all had nothing better than a high school diploma. Actually, I’m pretty sure John Lennon didn’t even finish high school at all. Anyway, all of those guys did incredible things without all that much formal education, so college can’t be that important, right?
I should probably share some other news, just get off the whole college topic and stop pressuring you. So, Sookie had her baby. They named him Davey and he is absolutley adorable. Things seem to be going okay with the whole inn thing, though Lorelai is definitely more stressed than usual. As for Rory, she did try dating a little, but it didn’t go so well. She’s absolutley not over Jess yet, which I get, because no matter what he did wrong, she did care about him a lot. It’s so hard when the one you love isn’t around anymore.
It’s seriously starting to seem like we are the two most depressing letter writers of all time, doesn’t it? I swear I am trying to be upbeat, but it’s hard. My personal playlist of choice this week has included Blink 182, Nirvana, The Who, and A-Ha (you know that last one is such a guilty pleasure) and still, it’s hard to keep smiling. I’m not sure what it would take, at the moment, or maybe I do, but I know I shouldn’t say it again.
You’re all the things I've got to remember,
Lane
27th November 2003 (Thanksgiving)
When Lane opened the door, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting on the other side - more relatives, maybe Rory and Lorelai, just a neighbour perhaps - she certainly hadn’t been prepared for who she found bouncing agitatedly on her doorstep.
“Oh my God, you’re here!” she said too loudly at the sight of Dave, pulling the door almost closed behind her and throwing her arms around his neck. “I can hardly believe you’re here. You were so sure your parents wouldn’t pay for you to come home for the short holiday, especially not with Christmas break so close, and-”
“Lane,” he said firmly, pulling back and looking altogether too serious. “Please, would you read this?”
“Read a letter?” she checked, reaching to take the folded pages from his open hand. “But you’re here...”
“Please?” he urged her, looking oddly desperate.
Lane swallowed hard. She didn’t want to think too hard about what this all meant, she simply didn’t dare to, but she did as he asked, opening up the letter and beginning to read...
Dear Lane,
I thought a lot about what you said, and adding on all your reasons to the list I already had, I realised that staying at UCLA just wasn’t an option anymore. I need to come home. After a long talk, my parents actually agreed with me. Apparently - miracle of miracles - they miss me too. Not so much that they offered to trade a limb to bring me back, but then you are pretty special. Anyway, I want you to know that I’ll be coming home for Thanksgiving, and when I do, it won’t just be for a few days. It’s going to be permanent. I’ll be going to school locally from then on, and we will be able to see each other all the time...
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Lane gasped, throwing herself back into her boyfriend’s arms, hoping he wouldn’t mind so much that she hadn’t actually finished the whole letter.
She would read it later, of course, she would, but for now she just had to be holding him, as tears built up in her eyes and spilled over her lashes. She had no words, not one she could possibly say as she held him tight and revelled in the feeling of his arms around her too.
“By the time I wrote the letter, it kind of didn’t seem worth putting it in the mail, when there was a good chance I would be here before it made the trip,” he told her softly in her ear. “I’m guessing this reaction means you’re happy, right?”
“Happy?” she echoed, pulling away to look him in the eye, as well as swipe at her cheeks. “Dave, I’m... I don’t even have words for what I am right now, but the basis of it definitely starts in happy. So happy!”
She watched him grin, then quickly glance by her through the crack in the door. Before she could ask what was going on, he pulled her close again and kissed her the way she had been dreaming about since the day he left. It was incredible.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Lane,” he said when they parted.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Dave,” she replied breathlessly. “I love you so much, you know that right?”
“I know, and I love you too,” he promised, before kissing her one more time.