Dear Turtle,

Oh I'm sorry... I'm not disparaging you or anything, but seeing as my connection is about as slow as a turtle, I thought it best to address this letter to a turtle ... like yourself.

Ok maybe you're not a turtle. Or maybe you are... Who can tell, with the way that I'm being so random almost all the friggin' time add that to my penchant for writing vague letters to even vaguer personas? Is vaguer even a real word?

I would actually try verify that with the online Webster's or Merriam's, but like I said. My connection is just as slow as you are.

In fact, it's about as slow as I am.

Ok wait, that's not really fair. I'm not slow. I'm daft, yes. Slow, not really. Not all the time, anyway.

Oooh... Guess what? Someone's getting married. Yeah, I should really look into becoming a private detective if this whole photography thing doesn't work out. Because I'm so great at searching and finding stuff out... Seven years of practice does that to you.

I'm slightly affected. Not only because the person getting married might have actually been the love of my life, but also because, I realized that I'm old.

Age is relative, of course. I mean, yes, twenty five is very young if you're a wife and mother. And yes, twenty five is fairly young, if you have a boyfriend or even a shadow of one.

But being twenty five and realizing that, no matter how progressive you thought you were you're afraid of what you thought would be the last thing you'd be afraid of, because you know better. Ah but alas, you're a twenty five year old coward who blogs in at midnight, hoping it will minimize the fear.

Oh but don't let that stop you from trampling on my self-confidence and forcing me to lose my self-respect. We're just getting to the good part.

...The part where you tell me that this is all just a horrible nightmare and I'll wake up in Cairo, seventeen years ago. I don't know... It just seems like a good place to start over. Eighteen years ago in the Philippines could work, too, but I don't really remember as much and I might get lost again.

We wouldn't want that now, would we?


As Always,
D.