Learning to Write Love Letters, Dream

June 27, 2004

Dear Trevor,

You said to write you love letters... I honestly don't know how to do that having never written one in my life, of course. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you. So how about I start off with thinking of you and missing you letters and progress from there.

So, first, before I forget, the dream I wouldn't tell you over the phone: It started really strange. You were supposed to drive me and Esther to this hotel and we could see the sign from the road, but you wouldn't turn when I thought you should so we ended up at this, I don't know what to call it, kind of a mix between a museum and Disney Zone. Esther thought maybe this place connected to the hotel so we went in and climbed through all these tunnels and trap doors and at the end, Esther was disappointed because the hotel wasn't there. So I went back out to you and for some reason, I decided to walk through this neighborhood that happened to be between this place and the hotel. Well, I'm walking through and this guy in a tan speedo on roller skates goes past and then starts moving really slowly. I'm already suspicious because who roller skates anymore, especially in speedos. He turns on me and forces me to the ground and the speedo is gone and his trying to force himself on me but I manage to keep him at arms length and scream bloody murder. The people in the house we were in front of looked out the window but didn't do anything. Then Michelle from Deerfield came up and pulled him off me and you came up behind her, and then I woke up. Weird, isn't it?

Any way, theris a beautiful view of the lake from my window and it's freakishly cold. The people in my cabin are all pretty nice, though a lot of them aren't around a lot. One girl still hasn't gotten here yet. So to pass the time, we speculated about when she would get here. Other than that, nothing has really happened. Theris another girl in my cabin who likes Broadway as much as I do and we've already exchanged some music. I got a lot of work done today on something I'm writing, but now I'm stuck so I've been watching the cursor blink for a while.

Once we get the front room of the cabin (where the counselor would sleep) I'll have a desk to write on and my handwriting will get better. I've got to buy stamps before I send this, so it might not get out tomorrow because I think the post office opens after I go to class. Running out of paper. Another letter later.

Much love,
Abigail