A letter about Megan Fox
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January 17th, 2014
My dear parents,
I don't write letters very often. To be honest, I have never actually written a real paper letter in my life. So you must be asking yourself what has changed.
First of all, you might have noticed that I left home.
Oh, I am sure you did, considering the fact that prior to this I said goodbye to all of you and you even responded. Dad said something like: "And buy some vegetables, won’t you?". I am sorry I didn't answer. I was determined to leave and these vegetables could have spoiled everything I had planned. As if Dad could not buy them himself. But when I finally crossed the threshold of a place which had been serving me as a home for many years, I felt like I have done something terribly wrong.
And so I had to buy the green peas and carrots and to leave them in front of the door, as well as this letter, which I really hope nobody stole and which I have finished writing on the stairs. Our neighbors wondered what I was doing and whether we had a problem with our electricity so that I had to do my homework outside of the apartment. I told them that this was the case. It was certainly a lie, but it was essential to my survival. You will soon understand why.
By the way, talking about lights, Mr. Jackson promised he would visit us later in the evening to see if he can do anything about them. You can just say that it is no longer a problem and invite him for a cup of tea.
So I am reaching the most important part of my story, because you probably would like to know why I left.
I would like you to know that this is not your fault. Or at least, not entirely.
Do you remember that actress from Transformers, whom I have mentioned a few times? Her name is Megan Fox. You thought that it was just the way teenage crisis affected me, and so you were sure that would pass. And you were probably right, as I don't believe that people can love anyone eternally (especially because they all die at some point). But the fact is that this is something a lot more serious than a teenager's passion.
I love her.
Please, don't tell me you didn't know this was going happen. First, you cannot tell me anything right now as I am no longer with you, and second, I wouldn't have left without making sure that you understood my condition.
OK, “a few times” was an understatement. I started to talk to you, every day, at every possible occasion, trying to break your resistance again and again. But you wouldn't listen. Or even worse. Sometimes you listened and then, when I was sure you understood me, one of you would say: "Yes, this is exactly what I had when I was of your age...".
Ah! This phrase of yours hurt me so much, that even now my hand is trembling when I am trying to write it down and my heart is trying to break out of the chest.
At least, I found some support in books. I soon discovered that every romantic writer expressed the same thoughts as I did. He too knew that his love was unique, and he was certainly a way more mature than I am. Well, if even the classics backed up my points, how could I be wrong? The truth is that nobody can love in the same way that I do.
You always wanted me to think logically, so where was your own logic when you tried to argue with me? Just think about what I feel towards Megan and what you have felt! How is it possible to compare these two states of mind? Megan was still a baby when you were already a teenager!
In the end, you grew tired of me, in the same way all my classmates did, and urged me to stop discussing Megan on every possible occasion. And I had to stop.
If you did not understand me, how could you say that my love was not true? Yet, this was the case.
Soon enough I was not able to think about anything else. I kept on getting distracted from what I was doing and my school work suffered terribly. Sometimes I thought I got away from my obsession and I felt like a free person. What to say, I was ready to enjoy life once again! And then, sooner or later, I would realize that I was keeping the thought that haunted my days and nights somewhere at the back of my mind. What a deception it would be!
You always said that I did not know what kind of person Megan was and that I only liked her face and her body (I am telling you this exactly the way you phrased it, even though it costs me an enormous amount of efforts and pain to put this down on paper). I should admit that Megan is pretty, and even - maybe - beautiful. But this is not the point.
The point is that I love her entirely.
I mean not only her appearance, but her voice, the way she acts, the films where she played, her walk, her clothes, her look, her words! If I looked at her on the screen, I knew what she felt at that very moment and could easily follow the pattern of her thoughts and the real meaning behind the words that descended from her divine lips. If I did not love her, I would have fallen in love with all the other actors in Transformers, just because they have seen Megan in real life, knew her the way she was and had an opportunity to breathe the same air as she!
But my heart and my mind were full to the last degree.
And then, one day, I found her Facebook page. I tried to explain everything to her in a private message. I am not sure anyone writes private messages on Facebook nowadays, but I did. And I failed. So the next day I tried to present my feelings in a clearer way. I said: "Dear Megan, you don't know me but I do. You do not have to answer this message, just know that if one day you see anyone outside your house looking at your window, it will be me..." and so on. And then I kept on writing to her. At the beginning it happened once a week. Then once a day. And then it became a habit to write to her every single time I had a new thought. She has never texted me back, but I am sure that she has read at least one of these messages, and then, of course, kept on reading them, because she understood me and started to love me herself. It can’t be otherwise.
You, Mom and Dad, wondered why I was spending so much time on the Internet. I could certainly not explain what I was doing to you and therefore I had to keep silent. Well, then followed your usual philippic about how it was impossible to communicate with your son and you blocked my access to my own computer! Now you understand that after this I did not have a choice anymore.
My dear parents, do not blame yourself, you can still do better things than that. I am sure you did not understand all the consequences of your actions back then. But now there is no other way for me to keep up with my existence on this planet: I will act as I described in my letters to Megan, I will come to the place where she lives and watch her window.
It was very hard to find her address, as every person whom I questioned on the web told me he was sure that he knew, yet every single time it was a different place. So, I decided to visit every house and street indicated to me.
One day I will succeed and this is the only thing I can be sure about. She will look out of her window, recognize her most faithful lover and reach me from her heavens. And my quest will be completed.
P.S. On a second thought, in a week or so, my money will probably run out, so I will have to visit you to ask for more. Could you please leave a few banknotes under the rag in front of our apartment door? I am quickly ending my writing because it is already becoming dark outside, which I did not really expect, and, besides, I hear Mr. Jackson making his way down the stairs.
Good bye and sorry for this misunderstanding!