Diana Kurniawan

September 18, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

My life is not futile, Seth. It is NOT, and it was never meant to be. It is well with my soul that Joey has gone and now perhaps in the midst of hell and heaven, in the between spaces where all unrest hath gone. I wish I could turn back time and tell the guy that he's got a friend who would speak to him till dawn and with all her might, try to settle things to a peaceful rest and send him to the Emergency Room for Mental Health.

 

I decided, because Joey is now gone, I will not lead the same life. I will try with all of my heart, mind, and soul to love my life, even through the crevices of doubt and harsh realities. I know I won't be in my late forties working a dead end job, but if I am that person, I will keep going. To tell you the truth, those middle-agers with a job are lucky. They are not lazy and they are hard-working classy people. I am one of them.

 

If I end up being 46 or even 50 years old and working at Target, I will keep working hard, no matter what, and write and love my Dad. If I am still alone, I won't try to find someone because you know I'd be so depressed, lonely and desperate, and those three factors will land me with the wrong man. I will wait it out. My life is not futile. I know God has a plan for me. Sister Mary McGready told me that once she never thought she would write a book, but the calling was there until she published over a million copies.

 

Perhaps, Seth....I will write and become a writer. Perhaps I will write about everything and anything under the sun. I know my mind isn't broken and I know that even with PTSD and my Depression, I am still strong. I know the weakest are sometimes the strongest and most valuable cornerstone we never knew we deserved or had.  Sister Mary McGready told me that if I was emotionally hurt, I am still perfect in the eyes of God, and I am not futile or broken down that I won't amount to anything but garbage. I know that with God, anything is possible.

 

Do you believe me when I say that I will write? Perhaps these love letters are just the beginning of something even sweeter, something worthwhile, and something valuable that no one would ever guess they would read and cherish? Maybe, even the rapist will appreciate me.

 

I am one of the chosen to have to lead a difficult path, and maybe it wasn't because I was dumb, but I was hurt since I was young and lacked guidance. I knew my Dad wasn't perfect and I wish he was. I wish he had time for me, but he doesn't. He doesn't have time for himself and for his own illness. He is struggling and I won't blame him, or regret my past. I won't dwell or tread on that road once again. I know it will come up over and over again, and I will try with all of my heart to dodge that unbelief in my own genius.

 

Do you believe that I am a genius, Seth? I know you are, but what am I? I am a genius, my life is NOT futile, and I am the possible in the impossible. I am chosen and I am a cornerstone. I am a gorgeous human being who is under appreciated by some, because they are too selfish to see the beauty in others. It isn't my fault for their imperfections, but I also know it isn't my fault that I was hurt and I was defiled and partly broken from time to time. I will keep going and writing as if nothing happened, and if these symptoms come back (like all victims of violence know and feel) I will have to settle my breath into a peaceful space, close my eyes, and practice my prayers as the warrior that I am.

 

Do you think people are scared of victims of violence, Seth? I know a lot of people don't like us, or choose to see us as a negative, but we are actually the positive. We are the population who understand what violence feels like and I know most of us don't want it to happen to others. Those who become harmful didn't practice their genius, but I am one with a genius mind, Seth. Do you believe that I am a strong proponent of good? I am. Know that and if one day I become a writer with my own website and my own stories, I will write these letters to you and send them into cyberspace as my true heart to help others through my unconditional and heartfelt love for you. You are my sweet spot, Seth. Keep making the world laugh, and keep reaching to the scariest population of people, yes....the Donald Trump Fans. 

 

I love you, Seth Meyers!

WishesOoohWishes (a.k.a. Mary)

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

A good day, on a certain special month, in the years to come.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I didn't die, Seth. I am still here loving you. I went back to get my GED, and enrolled at the nearby Community College and took my own interest, might, heart, soul, mind and spirit and applied myself. I went online classes. I took myself to a place called 'Zoom' that only existed in the future, and during the past, was just a way to meet other people for office meetings. It is now WORLDWIDE, and EDUCATIONAL and Chinese people made it. 

 

I know you are wondering if I'm Latina or Asian. Perhaps I was just a fictional rape victim and perhaps I was just a figment of your imagination of a fan girl. I was and always will be a female who was hurt, and had a way out because someone loved me. My Dad became sober. He still works at Target and so do I. I was 17 and now I became older, and A LOT wiser. I also work at Target, and I have pride in it. I was homeless at Covenant House, but now I am not. I was hurt, and now, I am stable. I was broken, but I am patched with gold in the between spaces where doubt, negativity, and hatred lived. 

 

I was a person who didn't like others because I let the rapists hurt me and inflicted hatred and racism, and abuse and he was physically and verbally abusive, and I was hurt by more than just Jack. That was his name, but it really wasn't in the name, it was in his heart. Yet, my heart never succumbed to his that he wanted me to have.

 

I never took the rapists's garbage, instead I worked on my own and decided that within my hardship, was my genius. That with time, I will become an even greater genius. I was cooked, hard boiled, and deep fried, Seth, by people who weren't chefs or tasteful. You know what happened? I became shredded meat. But, I was so fully loved, not by my own doing, but by God and by my Dad, and my family, and Joey, and my friends at Target that I know how to cook now. I became the chef, and pastries are my friend. I wasn't too dumb to realize that the perpetrator's cooking of my life was scrap from the can. I constructively re-invented myself. I fully went online and took classes, some I even took because The Christmas Spirit stayed inside my heart and mind and soul all year long, that the messages and the methods of their madness completely transformed me.

 

My brain wasn't crazy, Seth. It was harmed, I have to say, but it wasn't psychotic and violent. I never killed a bear because I was assaulted, and I have never shot an animal or a human being or used a gun because I was assaulted. I never physically harmed another, although I was beaten and violated. I didn't call anyone any worse names that you would call a hater, I uttered words of anger, but never acted upon it. I wrote it down and the ones I spoke out, was in self-defense. God saw all these actions, and I will safely say it now, and forever to God be my witness....I became anti-violence, because I was, am, and will always be...loving and kind. 

 

I also became more than just a creative, Seth. I have goals, hopes, dreams, and I know my Dad will always be with me, no matter how old I will be. My Dad works with me, and together we conquer tired lives at Target and spread the joy of everyday living. He is and will always be my hero. I will keep these love letters, and somehow, release them....one day.

 

Guess what, Seth....I will always love you, too. Instead of just keeping my whole heart to myself and denying others of my soulful love and kindness, I practice it.

 

Here is loving you, Seth.

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

The end.

August 18, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Since I lost Joey, I gained 25 pounds. It wasn't because I wanted to be like him, or miss him, but because (double negative) I was sad. 

 

The good thing was, my Dad came by to The Covenent House and he was sober.

 

We talked, and we watched a movie, and processed the whole thing.

 

"The Great Gatsby," he said. "There is my favorite person in there, Robert Redford."

 

"I wish it was a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio," I said.

 

"Maybe one day, there will be another The Great Gatsby movie with Leonardo in it," said my Dad.

 

"He's my dream," I told him. 

 

"I thought it was Sethy," said my Dad.

 

Seth, just a disclosure, I did think Leonardo is and was and will always be a hot specimen of a hunk. He's known that and he's talented, and I hope one day you'll have a talk show and have Leonardo on and talk about fandom and fan girls.

 

My Dad and I watched the movie and I've read the book, and it brought back some trauma. About Jack and about the past. Nick Carraway said, "You can't repeat the past," as he looked to Jay Gatsby in the garden and Jay Gatsby said, "Oh you're wrong. You can."

 

That scene reminded me of how I was so in love with Jack and how the brought me to his villa in Breckenridge and told me that his ancestors created the telescope. I won't be able to recreate that, but the assault underneath the bleachers came into my mind at least once a day, and I didn't want it to come back.

 

It's about the mind, Seth. The past could only be created if we still persist on it. It was all a thought that has gone haywire, unprocessed, and unhealed because it was unhealthy. Let's say I proposed to Jack, and he said, "Oh, sure, ok." But we never married because things fell apart, I will have to keep going, Seth. Especially if he became a married man. I won't be able to do what Jay Gatsby did, own a mansion and became a bootlegger, that part would be impossible. The part that would be possible, I won't ever do. I won't try to lure my former boyfriend who became married back to me.

 

First part was, because I was assaulted (by Jack) and even if Jack didn't assault me, I still won't be able to rewind the past and go back to Jack because he would have moved on with his life, especially if he told me he's moved on. Second part was, because I would retrigger myself all the time with the traumas. It would rewind the PTSD and Depression all over again, and I won't be able to do anything right.

 

In the movie, The Great Gatsby, Jay Gatsby had killed Myrtle through a car accident, and he became the victim of Myrtle's crazy husband who shot him to death in the pool behind his house. I won't ever hope for this to happen to me, and I won't want this for my life at all. I learned so much from this movie, Seth. First, don't have a house that big without a camera where you won't know there was a man with a gun coming into your house. Second, just don't own a property near your ex-boyfriend because he might make your life miserable. Third, don't party that much like Jay Gatsby and invite too many people that no one remembered you even if there was a funeral and you're in the casket. Just invite the important people in your life and keep it simple for yourself.

 

I learned so much with this movie, Sethy, and my Dad said, "I really hope Leonardo DiCaprio will star in the next one with his best friend, who's that guy that kiss some crazy lady upside down? Yeah, you like him, right, Mary?"

 

"Tobey Maguire," I answered. "Yeah, I hope they'd sell box office and blow shit out of the park!"

 

That was my wish, Sethy, and since it's 2010, maybe you might be able to make that happen by 2022 (2 extra years after 2020 - because things might blow up this year). I also hope that you won't be a statistic of gun violence like Jay Gatsby. Overall, Sethy, my Dad and I bonded, and we talked about trauma processing, and how I would be able to move on from a decrepit bottomless pit of depression to the upper echelon of West Egg, inside my mind.

 

The truth was, Seth, it has been difficult for me to stay alive. I have negative thoughts all day and it became pervasive when there would be hard things for me to face, such as a friend's suicide. The assault by Jack made me think of the times I wanted to marry a loving husband. Now, it felt impossible, because I felt disabled by my trauma and the thoughts of self-harm became one of the hardest things for me to face each week or month. 

 

Watching The Great Gatsby, reminded me of that scene with Nick Carraway with Jay Gatsby inside the house, in the garden, and also the ending was so poignant that I won't ever want to be like him. I wish for good things for myself, and a loving life. I wished for my Dad to be sober forever, and I believe in him.

 

I won't join Joey, no matter how bad things will be inside my New Jersey mind. I won't be scared (or at least try to be brave) and try with all of my might to survive on my own; even if my Dad kicked me out when he has his bouts of alcoholism. I won't try to move to New York, because I know I'm not meant to be here. I ran away, and I ended up homeless here in Covenant House. I won't escape my problem, instead work things out, as long as Jack and his family won't try to harm me. If there was anything I would ask of you, would be to pray for me. For a thriving success of a future, and if God wills it, true love.

 

 

New York, New York. Empire State of Mind,

WishesOoohWishes.

July 6, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

It was all a lie. The fatness in between and the phobias concocted out of Joey's mind was all his inability to get rid of his bulimia. It wasn't alcoholism, drug addiction or schizophrenia.....it was an eating disorder that ate him alive. The notion of eating healthy never came to him, it was a dream he used to say to me. 

 

It happened one night last month, and I am never the same again. He told me he wanted to have some porridge and he wanted to try some Chinese Porridge with Barley and Ginkgo Biloba from Shanghai Mong in Koreatown. I told him I have no idea what to do.  He told me to follow him and I just did that, and he meandered on some streets and went straight and then turned to the right and then left and crossed to the next street over and took me to a bus and some of the same things happened....we turned left and right and turned to the next street corner and crossed another alley and another street and went to hit up some bodega and got some Arizona Iced teas, and finally reached Shanghai Mong. 

 

"How the hell are we going to afford a place like this?!" I said, slapping the back of his shoulder. Joey smirked and had a plan and I never knew he was being cruel and vindictive at food and the biology of his own body.

 

"Let's just order," he said. 

 

We got a table in the corner of the place and we sat on some nice shiny mahogany chairs like in those Jackie Chan movies I remembered my Dad used to make me watch, to fill his time drinking whiskey inside a paper bag. 

 

"Just relax and open up your stomach and relax it even more, and let your butt just sink into the chair padding and let yourself relax," said Joey. I had no idea he knew meditation this way before, but the guy was determined to get his porridge and eat it too.

 

This night was special because I wrote to you, Seth Meyers, the night before, and I was really happy. I thought of the funny things you said to me during our special times together on Weekend Update on SNL. I like to think you were especially telling me stories of funny news across the ocean and across the bridge from Jersey to NYC. But, I digress, I was really happy, and so was Joey because I smiled and smiled and never suspected a thing.

 

"Barley and Gingko Biloba porridge, please, and you can add some chicken in there to please me," said Joey.

 

"I'll have the lettuce wraps, please," I said. Then I whispered, "Who's paying for this?"

 

"SSSShhhhhssssshhhhhh......," he said. I suspected something wrong, but I should have said something to him and stopped him, but the lettuce wraps came and it was DIVINE!

 

Joey ate non-stop and he slurped the porridge and kept eating it till it was gone. Then he reached into his pocket, and took out a small cockroach, and put it into the bowl. I almost screamed but I cried instead, and didn't know what to do! I was about to call the police, but I was so scared that I froze in my chair. 

 

"Joey.....you can't....," I whispered sort of loud and by that time, it was late and approaching 8 pm.

 

I didn't know people were still rolling in to dine and I still didn't know what to do. I never knew it was going to happen this way, but it did!

 

"Hhhhmmmm, sir, waiter, please come here, please waiter!" yelled Joey to the waiter. 

 

"Yes, how can I help you?" said the waiter.

 

"I finished the porridge and look who was in the bowl the whole time," said Joey.

 

"I am so sorry, sir!!! OH MY GOD!" said the waiter. He ran to the back of the restaurant and took the bowl with him.

 

The manager (and I think that man I saw really was the owner) looked at Joey and I swear, Seth, he folded his fingers together and bowed to Joey and cried, "I'm so sorry, sir, How can you forgive me?! Please, sir, don't call the health department. We are careless, we didn't know it was in there, it must have been a dead one."

 

"Well....just give me another clean one and we call it even. But my girlfriend and I are not paying for this," said Joey.

 

"No, we're not paying for this!" I told him. I looked to Joey and nodded. "I'd like a porridge too!"

 

"Oh no! She won't need another one, just a pair of lettuce wraps are enough, for her that is," said Joey. 

 

I kicked him under the table, but he looked to me and flicked me off. I kicked him again and he said, "Diet Dr. Pepper, for the lady, please."

 

"That's better," I said. "I am thirsty." 

 

The second bowl of porridge came after ten minutes and this time, it had sliced peking duck and preserved eggs inside. Joey's eyes became wide, and he slurped and ate the porridge without slobbering, but finished in five minutes. I counted because my Diet Dr. Pepper came afterwards. I sipped it with jealousy suds inside my straw.

 

I was so mad that Joey didn't play with me, but he suddenly dropped to the ground and held his stomach. He coughed and coughed and ran to the bathroom, and he made loud sounds like he was hurting on the toilet and farted loudly. I was scared and looked to the ceiling and around the room, and the closed my eyes and cried. I couldn't believe I was an accomplice to his fake cockroach, and now...to his food poisoning. 

 

The manager came out again and he went to the bathroom, which was near the back of the restaurant and some people still heard him. I walked towards the door and there was a foul smell and I ran back to my table.

 

"Just give me another clean one, and we call it even," I heard Joey said. He must be crazy to still want to eat here, and how many porridges could he eat?

 

"Joey....let's go back to The House," I told him.

 

"That's not right, we have to stay and finish this.....it is my last rite," said Joey. I didn't understand what "my last rite" meant and I didn't want to ask him, but I'm guessing it has to do with his right to make a statement. I was scared that he might become a criminal and I was so worried of how he might be caught.

 

Joey walked to the table and I swear, Seth....he looked like he lost weight, but from porridge? He only ate two bowls?

 

"Sir, the porridge is done and at your service," said the waiter serving the fresh bowl of chicken and dumpling porridge this time. 

 

"You have outdone yourselves, minions," Joey said. "Just kidding. Thanks."

 

He ate and I watched him and my mind began to wander at the possibilities that this was all a plot for himself, to get out of his own life at The Covenant House.

 

"Joey...are you okay?" I asked softly and burped, worried and full of Diet Dr. Pepper.

 

"UH huh....," he said, slurping and gorging himself with more spoonful of porridge. He slobbered and ate and ate and ate, and then I heard him fart. "Oh no!" he said.

 

He ran to the bathroom, and I heard him scream. "You bloody bastards! What did you give me?"

 

"Nothing, sir!" said the manager, who was listening to him, as I ran to the bathroom, and again, smelled the foul odor and ran back to my table. 

 

Joey came out and this time, he held his stomach, and he looked dehydrated and sweaty on the forehead.

 

"Bloody this time," he told me.

 

"Sir, we can give you free food, but please don't say anything to the police, please, sir!" said the manager.

 

"Make me another one and we call it even," said Joey.

 

The manager went to the kitchen to cook up another bowl.

 

Tears came out of my eyes without me knowing it was there, until I began to drip on the table and mucous came out of my nose.

 

"I'm worried," I told him.

 

"If there is anything I love, it's Chinese food," said Joey.

 

He looked to the ground, and took out some pills and it looked like something familiar. "This will make me go poopie more." He smiled at me, and took about a handful.

 

I didn't know what he took but they looked like fen-phen or diet pills because Joey told me once that he was dieting and he seemed to be dieting all the time. 

 

"Are those stool softeners?" I asked.

 

"I'm eating it, and hear me roar!" said Joey. "Another porridge, please! Hah!"

 

I was convinced that he was crazy and going mad! He told me that he wanted porridge, but he didn't tell me that he was about to poop it out at the same time. 

 

The next porridge was pork cutlets with green onions and pork blood. It looked amazing, and I bet it was delicious. Joey ate it and I knew he was chewing more than pork and pork blood and green onions, because those pills were in there too.

 

"I'm not sure if this is a good thing to do, but I'm going to call 911," I told him. 

 

I spoke to the manager and said, "I think he is addicted to porridge, Sir."

 

"As long as he won't call the police, we are okay and he can eat as much as he can," said the manager, as tears came out of his eyes.

 

I walked to the table and I saw Joey gasping. He held his heart and he fell to the ground. 

 

"Call the ambulance!" I yelled out to the waiter. 

 

Joey kept farting and soon enough, he was vomiting and then I saw his pants began to absorb something wet and the wet spot that was small began to enlarge and the foul fecal odor came out as I knew he was pooping on the ground as he held his stomach.

 

"If this was the way to die, then it is a good death," said Joey, his breath short and he began to cry.

 

"Why, Joey?" I asked him, in tears, "And why here? Why Chinatown, and why this restaurant, and this food?"

 

"It's my favorite," said Joey. As I looked on his face, a smile, and a big one at that. Then he held his heart and his breathing became shorter and shorter till it was no more.

 

The ambulance came and Joey was dripping with bloody diarrhea and mucous coming out of his body. I sobbed and sobbed and couldn't handle anything else anymore and just kept crying.

 

It was his relationship with food that made him homeless, that made his mother hate him, that made her kick him out. It was all foods that made him obese, yet jolly, and sad but happy at times. I was so sad and sobbed and sobbed and I didn't know what to do. I walked home and was lost for hours, until the police came to me, and asked me if I was okay and I explained to him what happened.

 

"Bulimia, that's what killed him?" asked the police officer. "Or was it the diet pills?"

 

"It was all of it, and his hatred for food, and his hatred for being homeless, and for being obese," I said.

 

"You need to go home, Mary," said the officer.

 

"I hope Joey is in Heaven with Jesus," I said.

 

"He died an innocent man, perhaps only guilty of food poisoning, but he died an innocent man," said the officer.

 

I will write again, Seth. But, that was what happened and it was just one night in Chinatown.

 

 

I lost a friend,

WishesOoohWishes.

May 13, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Seth, I figure it was his smile, Jack's, and his puppy dog eyes that got me, but his face and our kisses were inside my dreams. I'm not sure if it should be called a nightmare because he assaulted me, but I'm worried that I won't ever meet anyone who would love me because of the assault. Joey asked me all of these questions and we had a yogurt and milk conversation at the cafeteria after therapy.

 

"Why do you like him?" asked Joey.

 

"He's historical, at least that's what he told me," I answered.

 

"Define historical...who was his Dad?" asked Joey, taking a dollop of yogurt on his spoon into his mouth. "This is all pro-biotic, right. So I'm going to at least fart with this?"

 

"He said his ancestors created the first telescope," I replied. "I think you'd go to the bathroom after three hours at least. Don't worry, you're going to lose weight. We'll make it a goal."

 

"What? He's one of the Three Wisemen from Ancient Middle East?" asked Joey, flabbergasted.

 

"What? I think Jack was part English and the other part Italian," I said.

 

"But......oh okay, are you sure Italians weren't making pasta during that time? It could be true," asked Joey.

 

"He specifically said, TELESCOPE!" I said, frustrated. I was worried and annoyed because I had to rehash what Jack and I spoke about in Breckenridge during our first sexual experience. It was so romantic, the stars were outside and we looked out of the window and he spoke about his ancestors.  "Jack said his ancestor found a meteor and that's how his great great great great great great great great grandfather knew it was going to be epic."

 

"Do you really believe him? I think he was trying to get into your panties," said Joey. "You're blind aren't you?"

 

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

 

"You're pretty, Mary," said Joey. "It would take a special person to be with you, someone with a very attractive personality and charm and heart. But, you've sold yourself to easily."

 

"My Dad is not exactly historical and I work at T-Bell," I answered.

 

"It's the quality, Mary. Not just the money, and I admit, it helps, but girls with bad hearts have money just the same," said Joey. "A lot of them call me Fat Joey and I'd oblige to their name calling and believe it's comedy, but it's bullying. You're not like them. You actually wanted to be my friend."

 

"I'd love you even if you're on a wheelchair," I said. 

 

He took my neck and clenched it and pretended to choke me, and said, "Stop that shit!"

 

"Oh Sorry....just sayin, I'd be your friend even when things are worse," I said. 

 

"YOU'RE HOMELESS!" said Joey. I shrugged my shoulders. He shook his head and finished his yogurt. "Besides, Jack is still a rapist."

 

"An Elite Rapist," I said. 

  

"King David, a King, raped a woman because she took a damn shower. His son, Ammon, or Amsterdam, who was also a King, raped Tamar, and she was just some girl with a bowl of soup. King David later wrote the Psalms, but he got killed and eaten by dogs, and his psycho son got killed by Tamar's brother, Absalom," said Joey. "They will have what's coming. Let me tell you that! And it don't matter who their ancestors were, it's all coming to him."

 

"Wow....you're smart, Joey," I said, in awesome wonder of Joey's biblical knowledge.

 

"Mary, you've gotta get deep therapy and heavy therapy," said Joey. "Do you know there are worse things that could have happened to you? Like being trafficked for a drug cartel for instance. There are crazier things in the world you know. It's the heart that makes a man, not his bloodline."

 

Since that moment on, I realized Joey and I could talk about anything. Not only because he would be honest to me, but also he would be a positive support for my mental health. Truthfully, I've never met anyone who became homeless because he was fat, but Joey told me the truth, he was kicked out by his Mom because she couldn't feed him anymore. It was that brutal.

 

There were other kids with sexual assault and other violence as the primary cause of their circumstances, and I wished I never had to witness it, but it's real, Seth. I was one of the many. 

 

YYYYOOOOUUUGGHHHUUUURRRRTTT,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

May 14, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Seth, to be honest, I think I'm insane. Who would run away from home? There was a comfortable bed and a fridge with food, although not much, but there were some burritos in there.

 

Some days, I wished I knew what I was doing in life. Other days, I wished I knew if my Mom thought of me when she abandoned me and my Dad. He called this morning and I accepted the call and spoke with him inside the administration office. 

 

"Come home, Mary," he said.

 

"I'm not sure if you really want me as your kid anymore," I replied. 

 

"Why do you think that?" he asked.

 

I was silent. I heard breathing for several minutes, and my Dad finally said, "I will call you back, soon. Just stay chaste and remember your rights and wrongs." He hung up afterwards.

 

Truthfully, I didn't know my Dad knew right from wrong. I felt like I was being the parent and I was helping him straighten things out. I wondered if he thought it was right to drink six beers in three hours after work in the evenings. I wondered if my Dad thought of me when he numbs his pain, and I wondered if my Mom wanted me when she lived in that house with my Dad.

 

I wondered if I was the child they wanted. That's how I felt growing up because my parents faught all the time that I wondered if they really wanted me in the first place, or if I was an accident and they didn't have a choice. I felt like the black cat or the black pig or that white owl that everyone saw and talked about after someone died. 

 

I ended up crying underneath the table, and Sister McGeady came to the help me.

 

"Get up, Mary," she said, her head poking out in my vision.

 

"I don't want to go home," I answered.

 

"You're a smart girl, you can start over and renew your life," she said. "You can stay here as long as you need."

 

No one ever told me I was smart. I had to be homeless to find out I was smart. 

 

"Am I really smart, Sister?" I asked her.

 

"You chose us, instead of drugs, or exploiting yourself, so yes, you're smart. There are worse cases than you," said Sister McGready. 

"Everyone told me that. There are worse things than me. In my world....I am garbage," I said to her, my tears and snot dripping all over my chin.

 

Sister McGeady said something that helped me, Seth, and I never knew this was true, because I thought of Jack when she said it. "No humans can be garbage," said Sister McGready. "Garbage is for dead objects only. Living things, breathing things, humans, animals, and plants cannot be garbage. It's a common misconception."

 

I realized she was right. There was a lift to my shoulders and the burden over my back broke to pieces and evaporated in the air. I felt free and justified to speak to her.

 

She looked into my eyes, and told me something that I realize was true about myself, but I never knew, "Girls have the royal bloodline. Boys cannot have give birth, but girls can. It's boys who needs girls and it's men who need women. From now on, that's the world you live in. You're ROYAL."

 

There was a strength in me, that made me realize I was needed in this world. I was irreplaceable and important, not because I can give birth, but because I felt stronger than Jack. I felt stronger than the rapist. For once, I felt stronger than rape.

 

"I've accidently aborted, Sister McGeady," I confided in her.

 

"I know, but it was the STI that made you do so, it was a choice made for you," she said. 

 

"I still felt hurt and I think it was my fault," I said.

 

"It's not," said Sister McGeady. "You'll have to repeat it over and over again. The trauma is bigger than you right now. You couldn't handle it, but slowly you can heal from it. You have to rely on the system to help you. It wasn't your fault."

 

I didn't realize that there was such a thing as "the system." I still didn't know much in this world. I didn't know about the system, how the system worked, what the system entailed, and how to help myself with it and through it.

 

"Such things as healthcare, well being, mental health, stability, financial freedom, and so many things isn't in the radar of any teens, and teens aren't known to have the knowledge at these points in life," said Sister McGeady. "Age makes a big difference. You are too young to handle the level of sexual relationship you had. There wasn't enough guidance involved, and your mind and emotions didn't grow as mature yet to handle that. Then there was the trauma, your body was too young. I don't blame you at all. It wasn't your fault."

 

"Is this all my Dad's fault?" I aked. "I don't want to blame him for everything, and I already blame him for his addiction. And it was Jack who raped me."

 

"I want to make sure you're going to learn while you're here," said Sister McGeady. "Not only about unconditional love, but of a life that's perhaps new, out of the box, fresh, and safe."

 

"I want to learn, Sister," I told her. She nodded, and wrote a number, one million, on a piece of paper.

 

Seth, I wish you could see her, in her jeans and sweater, Sister McGeady was magical.

 

 

Going on a field trip,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

May 10, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I wished no one would judge me. Ever since I was little since my Mom left me, I felt like the whole world has been judging me. It felt that way because I think no one cared about my behavior, and I had to be the good girl to help raise my Dad. He was just a kid too, I think.

 

My Dad looked lost most of the time and I felt lost all the time with him. We talked about rent, making ends meet since I was young. We weren't always at the house. We moved several times from one apartment to another. We've never really owned any townhome or a house. We just called every place our "house." We liked to pretend we owned it, although I saw my Dad sold his guitar, his leather jacket, his watch, his radio and his bicycle to pay the bills. Ever since I saw my Dad did that, I didn't want to feel like his ball and chain, or his debt to God. I wanted to pull my own weight, so I worked as soon as I could.

 

Seth, the judging thing....I wondered why I felt this way. Joey said he didn't care if people judged him for his weight. He said, "Judgements are comfort for the judge, not the victim. We have to stop caring." I'm not made like him. I cared too much about what other people think because I've been so self conscious since I'm not made normal, with a normal house, normal family, normal upbringing, normal mental health. I felt like judgements fueled me to keep working, and when I spoke with Joy, she said, "So you always wanted to impress everyone to feel like one of the 'normal' people or the accepted person?"

Seth, you know what my answer was. If you were in my shoes, what would you do, Sethy? Even in writing, I wanted to impress you, even when you're not even here. That's how bad it got.

 

Joy told me that we were going to start on Crisis Intake Plan, and to walk down my goal plans, and my journeys, my hopes, my fears, my therapies and my desires to heal. I never thought that far. I just always wanted to please Jack, or actually, whoever paid attention to me at the time.

 

The rest of the time with Joy, during therapy, she told me a story.

 

The story was about a man with an old couch. Joy said this man always stopped by 7-11 and bought himself a soda with his dollars, and he'd put his change insde his pockets. He never took care of himself and just kept drinking sodas, eating junk from 7-11. He'd pass out on his couch while watching television every night, and often his coins would fall out, but he didn't care. He left all of his coins that fell out of his pockets inside the couch. 

 

One day, a kid next door came by wanting to sell some chocolates for his middle school fundraiser. The man said, "Sorry, kid. I need the money for myself." And the kid almost cried because it was his middle school fundraiser and he wanted to win a prize.

 

"Please, sir. Have you checked your couch. Maybe you have some loose change somewhere in the couch?"  The man had on a dirty shirt, untucked, with soda stains and Cheetos in his hair. He replied to the kid, "Sure, I'll go search for some change. Be right back," and so he searched for change, and of course, he found A LOT of change. 

 

He found Quarters, Silver Dollars, Dimes, Nickels, that some parts of the couch were hard because the coins were many and the couch was old. He said, "Oh my Lord, I'm actually rich!" 

 

The kid smiled, and said, "You are, you're just putting your money in the wrong places." The man looked to the kid, and said, "You know what, kid. I'm going to change, no pun intended, but I'm gonna."

 

"But, I hope you haven't forgotten about the chocolates that I'm selling," said the kid. 

 

"No, I won't forget because you made me look for change, that I realized I've wasted all of my monies and time on this couch when I could have saved up, cleaned up, changed up, shape up, and become rich," said the man. He gave the kid, $10 dollars but didn't take any chocolates, instead, he closed the door, showered, changed his clothes, and tried to find a job. 

 

Joy said that the point of the story was, that the man realized his potential, although he lost all those coins inside his own couch, it could have been worse, he could've lost his life from heart attacks, or getting shot at 7-11 when he was getting some Coca-Cola. But, because of the eye of the innocent, he saw the truth, and he was rich. Rich with potential, rich with the future, and rich with his possibilities. He had what a lot of people didn't have. 

 

I supposed, I was that way too. I supposed, even with the abortion, the assault, the low income, and the bipolar depression, I had something of worth inside of me that I didn't see before. 

 

I'm going to find out,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

May 12, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Yesterday, Joy and I took a walk with Joey and Jenna. Jenna was raped when she was little. Seth, is 17 considered young to be a rape victim? How old can a rape victim be, Sethy? How young is young to be raped, and how old is old to be raped? 

 

Jenna was 10. I thought that was pretty young, don't you think? She said her Dad sold her to his friends to get some drugs. She used to live with him, but she was always spending nights at other men's homes to pay for her Dad's debt. She told me that one time she had her period and a man still had sex with her, until she was pregnant, and later on, she had an abortion. 

 

I realized that some lives are worth saving, like Jenna's. Although she was hurt so bad, but like we talked about before, her potential was great, because she kept on living, and I gave her credit for that. I think that was the point that Joy, Joey and Jenna wanted me to understand, that I needed to keep going. 

 

If there was a time when I felt small, it was this time with Jenna. It's not that she made me feel worthless, but she made me realize that I was one form of assault victim, but a power of one amongst many to survive the trauma. I mean, there are so many victims that we're not alone, but because of that, I was suppposed to be powerful to survive the trauma with them. Do you get what I mean, Seth? It's truly not as complicated as Drunk Uncle. Sometimes, I don't understand him.

 

"What made you think that you've had the worst life, so far, Mary?" asked Jenna.

 

"I feel like I've killed a baby," I said.

 

"Was it your decision?" asked Jenna.

 

"Yes, it was to save myself," I said. I felt like the selfish loser, and an idiot who won't ever deserve to be a Mother again.

 

"I did the same," said Jenna.

 

I was flummoxed and my mouth gaped open. 

 

"You didn't think I was barren while I was being trafficked, did you?" said Jenna. "Do you know how many women get abortions each year?"

 

I was silent. If I had a choice, it was to NEVER have an abortion. If I had a choice, I NEVER wanted to be raped. 

 

Joy finally broke the silence, "It is always a case by case situation, Mary," she said. I didn't understand Joy. "I thought it was pro-life or pro-choice. I felt pro-wrong," I said.

 

Joey pointed to the building we were passing by, "Look at the windows in this building, they are so huge," he said. "Do you think rich people get abortions? What made them do it? And do they live in this building?"

 

Joy looked up, and said, "I don't judge a woman on abortion. Whether she choses to keep or abort the baby. I choose to love her, especially if it's a case of abuse or biological anomalies."

 

"I wished I didn't do it," I said. 

 

"It was the thing that saved me," said Jenna. 

 

"I choose to not blame the woman for it, so I choose to not blame you, Mary, for saving yourself," said Joey. "If there was a place who could save your baby, such as adoption, I would have brought that up to you too."

 

"I didn't want to make another orphan in this world," I said. "I didn't want a reminder of Jack's rape in my life."

 

"I choose to love you,, Mary," said Joy. "I would never blame a woman on that. I've never been pregnant and I've never been in your shoes."

 

"It was the thing that saved me," said Jenna, her eyes in tears. "I couldn't survive knowing I bore a child from the human trafficking."

 

"I still felt wrong," I said.

 

"One day, you will right the wrong," said Joey. "It's not penance, but transformation. Perhaps you will adopt or have your own child. And even if you don't, you can help women in these tough situations."

 

"It was the thing that saved me," said Jenna. "I wanted to end my life, although I was bearing a human life from the assault."

 

"If I was a teen pregnancy case, I might choose differently," I said. "Or, if I was rich, I might choose differently."

 

"If you were a teen pregnancy case, I choose to love you as a teen Mom, and if you decide to abort, I would love you as a woman," said Joy. "Some people say that it is a right or wrong choice, but that's too extreme. It has to be a case by case basis. If a woman can still have the child, she would realize her world will change drastically and will physically need to work on it. If a woman decides to abort, she has to realize her mental health and spirit will be changed drastically and she will have to heal from it. It's a matter of which of the two you're capable of, and it is a case by case basis."

 

"It was the thing that saved me," said Jenna, and by this time, her sobs needed tissues, and she added, "It was at the point of when the baby lives, I will die, and there was no one to take care of either of us."

 

 

Joey's eyes were in tears, as he said, "I've never realized the suffering all women carried in life, even as little girls, teens and later on, as women. And here I am, just sad because I'm fat and homeless."

 

"We can't always blame everything on Eve. Like rape for instance," said Jenna.

 

"I just wished more men were responsible and kind," I said. "So women didn't have to bear all of the suffering of childbirth. The world needs more compassionate men."

 

Joey wiped his tears, and said, "I'm gonna need some chocolate cake later. And then I'll send a prayer request to Sister McGeady for true love for everyone." 

 

Joy and I laughed, and Jenna hugged Joey around his stomach. We walked nearly six miles just talking about righting the wrongs we've done, and if we would ever get into heaven. But, I just knew that I won't make a good Jesus.

 

I wonder if God forgives me, Seth,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

April 5, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

It's really more than revulsion of life that I am writing out these letters to you, but for the purpose of healing. Who knew that writing is coping? And to love a writer like you, Sethy, is bliss and candies.

 

I hope you realize the power of your influence on my heart, because you've moved my life from the opprobrium to subtle glory. It is not about my faulty ideals anymore, it is more of release to gain strength, because somehow, I can empty out all of those bad horoscope readings on my past and replace it with some good astrology.

 
There is more depth to me now, because after I release all of my angers on paper about my misfortunes, I feel the energies of those who've experienced similar dramas. It's all there, and I have to just take those energies out to replace them with some form of wisdom of profound truth, from what I've learned through my own disgraces. I am so grateful you are not mad at me, otherwise I would feel sad about my life, if I my heart throb is actually disgusted by me. You are so patient Seth Meyers, and the more I write to you, the more I realize you are forever gorgeous and I am forever in love with you.

 

Don't worry about what others will think about you because some high school kid is nuts about you, when I'm underage and you're over the thirties hump. I'm just an old soul and I feel like I've known you all of my life. I used to think I you look like an old neighbor names Udi, but he's long gone and married now and he's nothing like you.

 

I feel better today but there are still bouts of anger and it hurts me. I still have thoughts of the bleachers and my Dad is still not here and Brenda sometimes comes around. But, everything feels fleeting. Everything, even life. I feel like my life will end early, because at this rate, after the rape and the episode at Planned Parenthood, I'm going to be shot somehow at T-Bell by an Italian. Don't get mad at me because of these morbid thoughts, because what kind of positive moments in life have I had lately? None.

 

In pain, truthfully,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 6, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night LIve,

 

I want to be like William, minus the facial hair and chubby body. He told me today that Seth, you're his hero too, and I immediately love him as a brother. I gave him a hug and told him that he's my friend for life.  He then told me about this group that he saw my Dad's friend, Sam, is in, The Knights of the Columbus. William told me that if I needed his help and Sam's help, to come to him, and to ask him for help. 

 

I don't want to tell anyone about the assault and as a matter of fact, Jack, is no in my mind unless I get symptoms of my depression again. It hurts when I get it because I can't stop crying and I hurl and vomit. I don't tell anyone and I try to slice my wrist with my nails, but we all know that's not real, so I just play it cool and let it go. I don't let anyone tell me what to do anymore. I don't trust anyone and even my Dad doesn't care. I have to make sure rent is paid and we have a roof over our head, because Dad hasn't been around lately and neither has Brenda. I'm worried something is wrong and he's going to be depressed and lose his job this time. I don't want to be homeless.

 

I tried to speak to India, the girl who told me about Jack and how she knew. I tried to ask a couple of people and I called Mabel, to see if she'd know. I still hate all the princesses of my high school. They have everything and I work at T-Bell. I was dumped by Jack and those girls are virgins and they've never even been kissed. 

 

Hindsight, I regret it all, Sethy. I regret wanting to be kissed by Jack and wanting to sleep with him. I regret wanting to have sex with him, and wanting to be a part of his life. I regret everything. Sometimes the sorrow is so full over my head that I can't handle it. 

 

I don't know India's number and I don't know if anyone will talk to me about Jack. I can't call Mabel, she'll tell my homeroom teacher or the principal and I'll get Jacked. No pun intended.

 

Lost for words,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 7, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I thought about the millionaires of the world, and how satisfied they are with their lives, with a degree or without a degree. Are they satisfied with who they are and what they've done, especially after their pursuits of happiness? Do they all have true love?

 

Have they made themselves, whom they become in all honesty? Have they fumbled the ways of life, on the road to success? Were they millionaires by birth? The truth is, I am the millionaire of love, and I suppose that love was what I want to also seek, but I'm a poor woman in faith. I have none, and i don't think I will survive this life.

 

Maybe because my dream, hopes, and its level of success does not have a monetary value, because it is priceless in comparison to ambitious money. It is measured and based on my personal desires of having a family, beautiful career, and lasting friendships. Does this ambition come with a picket fence with a rose garden and a Mercedes Benz? Why not? Why not go beyond and reach the sky?

 

Besides, this scale is an innate gift, the one my Dad told me to develop in life.  Yes, I think it could be a measure of the education I can gain, or naturally and through nurture. This is why going to school is best for me, and I am happy to know I am not the only one with this desire, hope, or measurable scales of ambition. But, with Jack in high school....education is a misfortune at this time, Seth.

 

The other girls at school have some form of a walnut like brain inside their psyche, but me...I'm just a walnut. They may not be a pistachio like me, but they have the same level of peanuty flavor, with a slightly salty tasty to them. Some people have this flavor of opinions from that walnut of a brain they have, so raw that's perfectly tasty, and noticeably delicious to its element. It is unmistakably them, and it is their signature taste, with a delicious presentation for accompaniment. They have someone who cares for them. My life is non-existent to a lot of people, and the only person who said he cared was William and The Planned Parenthood nurses. I'm just a plain nut, and the pistachio dream is unreal, Sethy. 

 

I want to be this exceptionally rare beauty, until the world is enchanted through me. This desire only comes out when I'm writing to you, because in reality, I am a huge mess and I'm going nuts.

 

Wondered if you wrote love notes in class,

WishesOoohWishes ------ß--@

 

 

April 8, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I called Jack. He hung up. I vomited and Dad heard me. Surprisingly he was home and it seems like he was having a serious talk with Brenda. I know Dad is supposed to be sober now, but I've seen him and Brenda having a couple of beers sometimes, and I don't write down when, but I know that's not right. But, who am I to tell him what to do? I'm sick myself.

 

Jack was all inside my chest today, and school was a Jackass, no pun intended. I'm tired of going there and I want to leave the planet. I don't want to stay at school, and I want to search for you. I want to visit you at the Rockefeller Plaza and meet you in person and kiss you on your lips, even if you're sick. I won't tell anyone if you reject me, even. That's how crazy I am about you. I know your girlfriend is beautiful and I predict you will have three kids, two boys and a girl. It's 2010 now, and I'm not sure how long until you're going to get hitched and make babies, but I'm going to make a go at it. I don't know what to do with my rape trauma. Everyday it is worse. I vomit all the time and I'm not eating. I don't want to, and I don't want to go back to the Planned Parenthood, they'll just call my counselour.

 

I'm having a nervous breakdown I think, is that possible at 17? I'm not sure if this is what it is called? Is my nerves taking the best of me and me crying in a fetal position in the girl's bathroom a nervous breakdown? Because that was all day today at school, and I escaped again. I ran out of the school double doors and I didn't look back. That place is hell on Earth. I shouldn't have gone. I want to leave!

 

Planning to drop out,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 9, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

If I was an "I Love you," in bubble letters, I would be the colors of Royal Blue Letters with hearts all across the words Love. It symbolizes my royal heart of a princess and the depth of love all throughout the color lines. William asked me why I wanted to date Jack or to have a relationship with him.  My answer is because baby lobsters can only mate once when it grows up, so it better have the perfect match.

 

I wish people could just see how I love them, and at times they probably won't understand why I love the way I love. But, love is love and people are stupid.

 

Some people want me to love them a certain way, and I would try to do so, but the fact is, I've gone through what I call, …shit hole.

 

For example: there were letters I wrote to you, Seth, and it was all angry words. All SHH8T this, and all F6%! That…but they never made it in print, because I wanted to say the things I say without restrictions. Then I realized, its just like the way people want me to love them a certain way, and I don't understand. If we were to meet, I know you would want me to write nice things about people, not shit this and shit that because I'll get sued and you'll get sued for teaching me flagrant things. But, I'm in a shit hole. So I'm writing shit-holish things.

 

So, the stresses comes out and the frustration level rose to headache level. I just wish I could control every thing to minty lavender and happy basil all the time., when I'm writing to you, but I was so hurt that I could not understand my own love for you. I just kept writing and writing verbage I know you wouldn't like. As all writers know, it was okay and it will be edited out later, but with me, because I'm not a writer, I'm writing these shit down and I don't care.

 

It isn't so perfect with the ways of my life, Seth. I hope you don't care about my deep emotional traumas.  I felt it was always my fault, these overwhelming emotions, because I was the cause of the rape and Jack was just following his nerves. 

 

I want to make it stop, this emotions and headaches, to leave lonely planet to make the heartaches stop. I wish you are here to comfort me, and I wish you are my neighbor. Then the cries ceases to tear, and my heart heals itself to love.

 

I was just trying to heal and love, but there were cacophonies and commotions in the background ruining moments with or without Diet Coke.  I wish I could explain this further, but my heart is breaking and I wish I have some people back in my life again.

 

Unconditionally a loving fan,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 10, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

My Dad has a rough night, and he said he broke it off with Brenda because his AA Group noticed he's been doing wrong and drinking after work.  Sam came by and told us to seek a family counselour. He said he's sober now and he's doing good with The Knights of the Columbus and asked my Dad to join. My Dad said, "What a be a crazy prick with pins on their shirts? No, thanks, bud. I gotta go to AA on my own."

 

I don't blame him, and I don't blame Sam either. I wanted to tell William to stop telling Sam what to do because I know why William tells Sam to help out, it's because William is afraid I'm going to drop out and become a homeless teen. I'm not going that route. I"m going to see if I can do better. I'm turning this shit around. I'm tougher than they think. 

 

I'm trying to find out what I can do with myself. I'm really messed up, Seth. My headaches are monstrous and I'm not on the pill. I'm worried I really am pregnant. I'm hoping my period stays regular. I haven't checked. If I get pregnant, I'm not sure what to do with myself. I'm sick to my stomach and all I can think about is being with Jack and being in a marriage with him and everything is perfect and we have a career and a dog and two kids. I'm psycho I think. I'm thinking of how perfect life would be with him, when in reality is that Jack raped me.

 

I'm going to stop and just watch SNL. I will write tomorrow or in a day or so. I'm so sick, I can't write.

 

I'm delusional and I feel sick,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

March 30, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I feel better now. I felt so alone last night and I wanted to end my life, but I thought of all the people who would show up at my funeral and it was even more depressing that I started laughing. It would be just a man on a piano and my Dad, singing "I will never love again," and who knows...maybe William or Mabel might come but knowing their background, their parents won't let them go to a funeral at their age.

I thought of the things inside my heart and the potential I possess, and I wonder what it would amount to if I only applied myself. I work at T-Bell very well but I don't do well under pressure at school. I think I'm Jack crazy but isn't that normal?

 

I wanted to run away last night and to come see you in New York, and to just stop school, stop work, and stop living in this house and live on my own and find my dream. What is my dream, and even if I know, I don't know if I would be able to make it. I want to see if I would, but I don't even know what I want. At least you knew about what you want out of life at an early age, but I don't. I just know I want to be loved and to have true love, and someone who holds me close and never let go. Does everyone know what they want at 16 years old?

 

I observe the people around me and most adults are married, but my Dad isn't. It troubles me. He had problems and both of my parents had problems, and now I have problems. I think that's why I wanted to end it all, but I won't. I promise. I feel like my life is a long shot to success. I don't know what to do.

 

I'm going to think of a way out,

WishesOoohWishes

 

March 31, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I wish everyone are pomegranates, because it's one of my favorite fruits. Sometimes people are not as sweet as they seem to be. Who are they? It is okay to be smart, but to become so ruthless, it all seems so worthless. Jack for instance. I am escaping my thoughts of him and pretending I'm next to you, eating a pomegranate and drinking and Izze.

 

I think you need to write a book, Seth. I want happy, for everybody, especially me! You can describe what type of fruit you are and I will think of you as the sweetest kinds. I need to believe that people are good, and some are inspirational, that's why I look up to you and love seeing you on television. I escape through you. Other stars are okay and I see a lot of talents, that some give their lives to reach it, but sometimes people lose their way, and maybe that's where the bitterness comes from. Maybe they are all bitter to begin with because someone was mean to them, the way Jack was mean to me.

 

I am so happy you gave your life to make people laugh, because happiness helps everyone at any levels in life. You help me to release several moments to smile and laugh out loud in a day, and that could increase the life expectancy for anybody. This is how I think you saved me. Can you save my life some more and write a book to love me back?

 

In your book, you should describe if you were ever the long shot. The person without a chance for the one dream he has, because as a woman, my gender alone could reduce my chance in life. But this is 2010, and I want to read a book that makes me laugh, especially because there were probably moments of "long-shots" in your life, which could empower me.

 

What was it that made the difference in your life? Who is your mentor? Was there a blind side? How did you move your life from a kid to a man?

Was there an "I don't know," or an "I don't care," or an "I miss you" in your life? How many defining moments do you remember? Do you listen to every voice you hear? Or do you take every chance you got, because you know how to make something out of nothing. Where do you shop? What do you eat? I LOVE POMEGRANATES!!

 

Do you know love when you see it? How do you love? Have you ever had to admit you've lost something so dear? How much did you give up? Are there a bunch of words you hate? What's your anger language? What's your habitual sin? How did you break your sins apart and tear down its walls? How do you believe in yourself, in this world when sometimes long-shots like me live in uncertainties.

What if there is construction in life, and all the lanes are closed and you will be fined if you stop? What could people do to succeed when the talent is there, but the opportunity is scarce and barren. Who do you listen to?

 

I suppose I want to know because I am the long shot, and I want to believe. I look up to heaven, but there are times when evidence is something I still need to feel. We can be a bunch of long shots in life, but some are just so inspirational and joyful that everyone just want to feel their hearts, and be inspired. You maybe that person for me, the inspiration, and I think you made me laugh so much that you probably increased my life expectancy for another 100 years. You are so nice! But, I know that long-shots are sometimes the best people in life, because they are the heart felt surprise you'll find unforgettable.

 

Could you write a book for me? Think of it as a science project!
 
WishesOoohWishes

 

April 1, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

I finally came back to school. It's a Wednesday, the day when the Earth moves under my feet every time. Do you remember that song, Seth? I found out from Brenda, because she was born in 1980. I was born in 1994 and I actually feel so much older than 16. It feels surreal to have had so much happened to you at such a young age, but that's what Chlamydia does to people, I guess.

 

I'm okay for now. I don't want to end my life because I want to talk to Jack still and I don't want my Dad to be alone. I know he has Brenda but I don't want him to relapse back to alcoholism.

 

I took the meds Jasmine gave me and I spoke to my counselor and they both said something similar. Study. That's all they said. They told me the only way out was through education and it gives opportunities. I'm shit out of luck, Seth. I'm failing every class I am taking. Math is crap to me, and so is English and History. Who cares what people did in the past? I want to get on out of the past of my life, and I damn well don't want to know theirs.

 

The only thing I liked was "Honesty is the best policy," by Abraham Lincoln. Did he think that up all by himself, you think, Seth? There aren't a lot of people back then when he was alive was there? They're all probably enslaved or in the army. At least that's what William told me.

 

I talked to William at school today and talked to him about PP and suicide. He was flabbergasted. I love that word "Flabbergasted." It feels like a fart that just escaped out of your butt. But yeah, William was flabbergasted. He told me about being in the dark. No shit, I was in the dark and I didn't need William to tell me but he did anyway.

 

William told me that when a person is in the dark, that's all they can see and they can't see a way out. I sometimes don't know if William is smart or not because what he told me was obvious to anyone. But anyway, he said something about how everything you do is wrong and the only thing that can take out of the dark is the light. Again....I'm not sure if William should solve anyone's problems anytime soon, but it was good to know that he was being obvious. I think it does help me a little. I mean....I want to see the light too, because apparently I'm darkness, and I think William is trying to say that he is the light to my darkness. I nodded the whole time, but my heart and mind was confused because I don't know what he's alluding to. No one ever cared to say these things, but now that someone did, I'm not all that impressed.

 

 
What light was I missing, Seth? Should I start reading self help books and such? Why??? I am going to take meds and go to school and try things out for myself. I'm going to wing it. I don't want to tell anyone I'm taking meds and I'm only taking them because my counselor prescribed them to me after my Dad told that he wants me on them when Mom left. I'm screwed up, Seth. I don't even know how to begin to introduce myself to you when we meet.

 

I hope we will meet,

WishesOoohWishes

 

April 2, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I couldn't stop crying this morning. I don't know why. I can't write to you today, Seth. I just cried and cried as if a fountain of tears burst from the back of my brains and out of my eyes. My mind was full of the visions of the rough sex that happened under the bleachers with Jack. I'm scared.

 

I want to tell Dad but he would be angry and I know he would hurt Jack. I know Jack will get shot and my Dad will go to jail. I didn't tell William or Mabel. I saw them at school, but I kept quiet. I did not look anyone in the eyes. The kids at school stared at me, but I dodged them. I saw them whisper but I stopped caring. I know they would call me names like 'slut,' or 'whore.' I know they all laugh at me, but I'm going to be tough and still keep going.

 

I'm worried about my heart, however. It feels broken and I never had a broken heart before. Jack is my first everything. My first kiss, my first boyfriend, and the sad thing is....I know I am probably the last thing in his mind. He's the first thing in my heart and mind when I come to school, but I know I mean nothing to him. It hurts that I gave my all to someone who would never care for me. Are adults the same, Seth? They must be smarter right?

 

William tried to find me when I was walking home. He said he met my Dad's friend from his Knights of the Columbus group. He said that they are becoming liberal. I don't know anything about them. I wanted to slap him. I want him to stop talking to me. I hate his talks about Knights of the Columbus and the light, and good side of life, and how he wants me to do good. No one is good. I thought Jack was good, but it's not true. I think William is in some kind of cult or something. He's crazy. He told me that I have to keep up with my meds and counseling, but I think he's the one that's getting worse. Who is he to judge me?

 

Mabel is a bitch. She has everything. She has a car, a good home, she's pretty and she doesn't have to work for a living to make ends meet. I have to pay the rent and the bills, and my money from T-Bell goes to Dad and we pool them to make sure we have a place to live. Mabel doesn't have to worry about that. She's a bitch.
  

I'm really hating them, those perfect people. I'm really starting to see the light that William talked about. The light shows me that everything is bullshit. This life is bullshit, and the thing that happened to me under the bleachers is bullshit. I'm going to just try to solve things with my counselor. Then take my meds. That's all I need.

 

I'm superwoman,

WishesOoohWishes

February 18, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Some people are meant to be soldiers, and some are survivors, fighting the same war, one day at a time.

Sethy, I am a bit of both. I am sure you don't really care when it comes to fan-ship. I think you love us all the same, and reserve the most unconditional love for your Jersey babies. But, some people are too scary to even speak about. Like Jack, and our relationship for instance.

 

I wish I never met Jack under the circumstances of high school and teen angst, but a perfect environment is somewhat an illusion nowadays for everyone at any age. I don't know if anything will change for the better, because he says to his friends that I slept with him behind the bleachers three days ago. But, I never did that. I swear to God! I'm a virgin! I think Jack is testing me, and I'm traumatized.

 
I confronted him after English, and all of the boring world history of the universe. I wanted some clarification. He said he wants to get together so I can prove my love to him. He said that he wasn't sure if I love him, unless I sleep with him.

 

What do you think, Sethy? I wish you are here. Dad is still at work, and it's only 9 pm. He goes to work from 6 pm to 6 am, four days of the week. He sleeps during the day when I am at school, then later after school I work at T-Bell till about this time, so I don't see him at all. I wish Dad can tell me what he thinks.

 

It doesn't matter, because in a day, you will be on SNL, and I will just watch your Weekend Update and feel the vibes through the television, and get my answers that way. I swear, one Saturday night, I felt your vibes so strong, I almost convulsed through time and space. You had your shirt off on Weekend Update and then on top of that, Kristen Wigg was the Target Lady at another re-run and I saw you were on that sketch, and I was like, "Oh my gawd. He's like family!" And I felt you told me a secret that you actually LOVE Jersey and especially girls like me with black hair and dark brown eyes. So, that was one special night for me.

 

Anyhow, about Jack, he has a friend, William, who told me, "You shouldn't do it, because it won't work," and this scary tactic of his friend who talked about "discouraging motivation" or "barriers to my proof of love," may not be his true friend. William said that it was "the flesh" and the devil is playing tricks with Jack and me, but the truth is. Jack and I want to do it, all the time, and it's been hard for me to resist. I let him put his hands on my chest and I love kissing him with his hand down my pants. I'm not sure if I am suppose to do it at this age, but I like Jack a lot, although he's an asshole sometimes. But, he's the only guy who's interested in me because I'm poor and Jack said I look "homely."

 

William is probably fearful of taking chances, because he never had a girlfriend. William is....heavy, okay….fat, and already has a mustache. All the girls think he's forty, but he's actually 16.

 

"I'm a genius, trust me," William says all the time. But, I don't have proof that he is or not. How am I suppose to know he is a genius and if he's a good guy if he doesn't want Jack and I to get together and have the best time of our lives?

 

I don't know, Sethy. I just know, that every time I see you on Saturday Night Live, I just adore you, and you are my dream man. I'm too young for you, because you're in your late thirties, and I am in my late teens, but who cares about age, right?

 

Am I suppose to compare you to Jack or to anyone or anything? I don't think so!

 

So, I decided, if Jack wants me, with all of the imperfect accents in my life of having an absent Dad and a runaway Mom, then why not?

 

The best thing about me is, I am sweet, from head to toe, and I don't care if people tell me I'm too crazy about Jack. Jack already knows that, and I just know that we are meant to be together and it's time. I think that's how candies of love are made, and how good hearts are born with.

 

So, please think of me in good thoughts and pray Jack will not treat me as hard candy, so I can stop feeling the imperfections of life from now on. Jack is from a middle class family and I am low-income, so I will be in good hands, forever.

 

Until next time, and YES, I still love you,
 
WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

February 20, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I'm so happy that you don't care if I write to you at all. I guess this letter is going to be all about my anger for people who tells me not to succeed. Dad tells me to lay low and stop working at T-Bell and concentrate at school. He doesn't understand that it's my only way to get money to go out with Jack. It's the only place where I feel excited and happy.

 

Between tortillas and the heating block, I put my stresses about Dad on the hot plate. The fresh pico de gallo and salsa verde gives me a spicier taste buds and knack for life. I ask Dad all the time, if I can have some time with him, and he says he has to work. So this job, sort of replaces my time with him and the sadness from it. It helps me, and it heals me. I don't want to lose my job.

 

I just hate people right now, and I'm going to blame a lot things on people in general. World hunger, bullies, human trafficking violation, black carbon, all kinds of stuff, I'm going to think it's all their fault, not mine...all theirs, and all Dad's. Because he doesn't care about me!

 

I am really angry, just don't get upset at me, Sethy, since I'm just releasing my pain and stresses out on these letters. You should be proud of me, because I'm trying to help myself, to just release all kinds of pain through my job at T-Bell, and maybe someone out there will see how they are not alone.

 

It's all just stresses I have from my life because my Dad is a drunk. It's too weird, because I'm almost 18 years old (an adult), and Dad doesn't want me to have the money to take care of myself. He might as well tell me to never dream, imagine, succeed, or even love Jack, because he is a failure and I am so angry about it. Dad is on the same team as alcoholism, and addictions. He's on THAT team! Why should I bother listening to him?

 

He says, "You should sympathize with me, and feel how much I want to be more successful and happier in life." He's super stupid! He tells me this when I am the one who is taking care of the house chores, and taking care of myself. He pays the rent and electricity, but I pay for the groceries, and I never ask for my money back.

 

"You're going to become a failure! So you need to work hard!" Dad says to me, all the time. SO I AM WORKING HARD DAMN IT!

 

Somehow, he feels it is necessary to label me with his own dictionary that he made up with dirt. This is why I don't like him, because he's not very smart or creative and he uses a large negative value to create a positive effect. He failed ethics and math, the same way I am doing in those class.

 

This is why I don't care about people in general, and this is why I don't care for friends. I only have Jack and I want to prove my love to him, because I doubt that Dad loves me at all.

What kind of life partners was Dad in the first place? I wondered why Mom left, and I think I know why. I only heard fights, never discussions or even sweet talks. They always blame each other and talk about each other behind each other's back.
 
Sethy, I'll just release all the beef I have about him by writing it out. Don't worry, I'm not always this tart, and the sweet will come out when we meet, it's all sugar cane. I promise.

 

All the negative that deteriorates me, really won't hurt me anymore if I ever meet you, or if Jack marries me after high school. The ridicule of Dad's rejection that completely destroys me, will not degrade my values in life anymore.

 
I am sorry that I am just confessing my hate to you. Thanks for just being there Seth, you don't have to do anything at all, and it's really a simple help you gave me. You're so sweet, and I'm enjoying our imaginary friendship! LOVING IT!

 

I'm stronger without him,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

 

February 27, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers, of Saturday Night Live,

 

Do you have a dream, Gorgeous? Boy, do I have dreams. I have a dream that there are happy people everywhere, just loving, sweet, and not willing to give up on themselves. I have a dream that every family has a powerful leader, a good strong example of good support, and responsible provider for their loved ones. I have a dream of a family with Jack, and he is my dream man.

 

I just spent the whole week with him at his family's cabin in Breckenridge, Colorado. His father, who is an engineer, asked me to come.

 

Sethy, if it wasn't for my dreams, goals, or even day to day hopes and wishes that are so beautiful, I would lose my sight of my own beauty. What I mean is, I didn't say no. I realize I am allowed to love Jack, even if I'm a low-income teen with an alcoholic father. You know us girls, … we want to feel beautiful! This is why I am wishing, praying, dreaming, and planning for a good life, and most of all … working on it! I am proving my love to Jack. It is going to be hot hot hot.

 

We only spent a week at the cabin, and snowboarded, all paid by Jack's father and mother. I didn't mind it. Most of all, I felt included. I am a part of their family.

 

"What does your Dad do, Mary?" Jack's Mom, Jennifer, asked me. She is a brunette, and only 35 years old. Jack's Dad is Ben, a blonde, 45 years old, and looks like Jack. They're a perfect family, and his younger sister, Abby, is a smart cookie. She's ten years old, and already reading at high school levels. I rarely have time to read, and I feel so priviledged to be a part of their family.

 

Sethy, besides you, I'm in love with Jack. It's final. I won't take no for an answer. I decided and it is forever. I want this to last, and if it only takes sex to do it, then it shall be.

 

I love being in love, and I want everyone to be on this adrenaline love, without the Diet Coke! I just want everybody to feel happy, and to respect one another, because there are just too many lives tattered, and dreams torn apart, and Mothers leave their children, leaving Fathers sleeping on couches. This is why I am working on being a part of Jack's family, because I want a good life. One day, I can have a strong family, good community, and powerful children out of my womb, like Jack's Mom, Jennifer.

 

I'm going to start with me, because I love you, Sethy. This is REAL!

 

I'm so pretty!!!

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

February 28, 2010
 
To the forever gorgeous Seth Meyers, of Saturday Night Live,

Okay, I read over the letters I wrote you and they all suck! Full of all sorts of errors, and funny words, and I wonder if you will ever read them.  I need to write to you about my life and how I feel, because this is the only way I can survive.

 

I have no one to call family, Sethy. It's not funny. I talk to a counselor and the state pays her, otherwise, I have no friends at all. I don't want to talk to anyone at school about my life, except for Mabel, because she asks me. Fine, maybe she's a friend, but I'm still not sure.  

 

I am writing these letters to you because I think it's romantic, but I don't even think I will send them.  I sometimes kiss your picture in my wallet, especially during the bus rides and on those less than perfect days.  You make me feel better, and I don't tell Jack. If I can kiss you, I think I will just lose control! I will drop Jack in an instant!

 

Do you really have a girlfriend?  Why can't we be friends? I think I'm crazy about you, and I just dream about meeting you, being with you, loving you, dating you, and falling in love with you. I just can't help it, and I don't ever want to see you go away from SNL! Where will I find you if you go away? Surf another channel on television or internet? Unless you'll have another show, then I'll watch your show forever!

 

I'm praying that we will meet, as soon as possible, before you transfer to another job! I wish you tape your shows nearby my house!  Then, we can have bagels and lox each week, and maybe we could have Vietnamese Pho Noodles for dinner.  I have no idea how these ideas come to my mind. I promise I'm not ill, but I am sad that some things in my life. My job, for instance, I almost got fired this evening because I kept asking for help on the burrito line and no one wants to help me. My manager said I was being lazy, and I whispered and told him to screw himself and he heard me.

 

My microcosm of life is never perfect and I only have SNL to ease my pains.  If it was a perfect world, my wishes would come true, and we would meet, then everyone would let me love you, EVERYONE! Who cares if I'm only 16. If you can only see my heart, you will fall in love with me. 

I still want to meet you, even 40 years from now.  I just think you/re HOT! I'm sure you have millions of gorgeous women who are falling in love with you, but maybe some of them aren't spicy and sweet like me.  But, maybe they're proper and older than me, but I'm flavorful, and a little Szcheuan never hurts anyone.  

 

I just pray you will give me that fair chance when you see me, or maybe you will want to sweep me off my feet today. I just want to love you, and I hope you are down to Earth. If you can only feel what I feel, you may even cry about it.  For a girl like me, to fall in love and reach out to her dream celebrity hottie, it's a miracle.  

 

I love Saturday Night Live, and I am just captivated by you! Please don't think I'm desperate or lonely, even though I am. I just know you make me happy.  

 

I think it's okay to write to a celebrity and wish upon a star for him to love her.  It's normal and healthy, even through these letters.  If you think I'm reaching too high, trust me, I am actually an angel, who is sweeter in person than you think.  I am not ugly Seth, but I am charming and cute.  

I am not always perfect, but my feelings for you are all perfectly beautiful. 
 
Somehow, a pretty fairy, 
WishesOoohWishes

 

p.s: I also wrote Jack a letter, but he never wrote me back. Maybe he's being lazy. Who knows.

 

 

February 29, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I want to tell you something, Sethy. Jack and I, ... we did it. In the cabin in Breckenridge, when his Mom, Dad and Abby were asleep. I didn't want to tell anyone, even you, even through these letters, but I'm scared. I don't know why.

 

Dad doesn't know. Please don't tell him, in case you have telepathy. I heard every anchor on Weekend Update has some kind of gift, that they have visions of people's lives because there is that world map behind them and it has some kind of powers. It is a curse but also a gift, but each anchor knows who their favorite fans are, and they can see the lives of their favorite fan through the camera.

 

I just always picture you, inside my mind, working my conscience and helping me. But, trust me, Sethy. Jack loves me, besides, no one loves me at all, so Jack's love is precious. I seriously don't think anyone will appreciate me, if Jack isn't my boyfriend and if we aren't having sex.

 

It feels like it's some kind of higher status, that we are a sexually active couple in high school. Sort of rebellious, but liberal and forward thinking at the same time. We used a condom, of course.

 

I think it's time people accept it, but trust me, I won't EVER tell our parents about this. NEVER! They are the last people on Earth that should know about it, because I don't want to get in trouble.

 

I think everything is safe with you, Seth. I can tell you everything through my letters, and it's perfectly normal. Even my counselor advices me to keep writing, and she tells me that I'm smart. I think I am too.

 

In love with you, … and Jack, ?

WishesOooohWishes (a.k.a Mary, the marriage material).

February 27, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Have I told you my love for you just hit its formative years? 

 

When I was little, I thought you were most likely that brave soul who wasn't afraid to hold my hand to play in the sand box. You whispered to me, inside my dreams, "It's okay to be shy. I still know who you are."  Then, you said in my dreams, "I have a huge monster in my backyard, wanna see him?" and I would be silly enough to believe that monsters really scared me at all. 

 

Times when the skies were grey made me wish you were my sand box buddy, because you would be the cutest sand box buddy I would ever have (and the oldest);and it would be completely fun to have you as my friend. 

 

Maybe if I was your sandbox buddy you'd be my best friend, although I never grew up with sand boxes or monsters in my back yard.  I grew up with lots of mud and rain that I played outside all the time, to watch the ground turned slimy and muddy. In the springtime, I would run outside in the fields of flowers where their buds bloomed and somehow, there was an ocean nearby, where I soaked my feet in the sand, and looked up to the sky and said, "Thank you for loving me."

 

I prayed for those wishes and prayers to be worthwhile for God, or for another soul like ours, to meet one day, from across the world. That perhaps a little girl and a little boy with the same wishes like mine, would meet and their hearts would take form, and they fall in love.

 

I know there were more important issues in the world than wishing for you to be my play mate. Like the fate of a little boy who carried a basket of rocks in India, or the little girls fighting assaults from the Rwandan militia; that my wishes of having you as my sand box buddy seemed like hop-scotch to God.

 

I prayed for those children too, that maybe they will have such a loving sand box buddy like me or you.  But today, I just wanted to love you very much, and maybe my wishes to meet you will one day come true.  I knew we live under the smile of heaven under the same moon and stars, with angels watching over us. Maybe they would notice that I was in love, and praised my wishes to God, to send you one day to be my friend.

 

For every letter I wrote, I prayed for every heart to be lifted up, and immersed inside that happily ever after I wished for everyone.  I also hoped for you to appreciate these series of love letters to God that I wrote for you. I raised them to heaven as a protest for love to conquer all.  For every child to grow up and experience true love as I wished in that vision of you and me, as sand box buddies. For the happy childhood and loving memories of all children to withstood the test of time. 

 

This sand-box buddy wishes might come true one day, maybe if not for you and me, then for two little children who God saw as a pair of doves, meant for true love.  If not, these wishes were still true, as I prayed dreams to come true, hearts to mend, and my heart to manifest to life!  In hope of you, Seth Meyers, that maybe one day, I would meet you.

 

Because I love you,

WishesOoohWishes