JAKE
Dear Frankie,
Sometimes you just need to step back to get a better view.
(Beat.)
I know that the “like” made it seem like the next step would be maybe a smiley face or a wink or maybe even a word like “nice,” but I’ve decided it’s time for one of those strategic steps backward.
(Beat.)
I don’t think I’m really ready to take the one forward. Step, that is. I’ve typed that colon dash close parentheses a thousand times, and every time: backspace delete next time. And what if you’re not ready? It’s like in Greek mythology, Zeus gives Pandora this box, and when she opens it, there’s no way to put those things back in ever again.
(Beat.)
I open the box and suddenly it’s hero this and hero that and everybody’s watching and they expect you to walk on water and leap tall buildings with a single bound, and you start to think you’re nothing if you can’t keep saving people, but when you can’t find someone or the saving gets messy or you just can’t save them at all, it tears you apart.
(Beat.)
Even now, you may feel that you need to do things differently—because of what I did. That you may need to change. But you don’t. I don’t want you to, because you’re great just the way you are. I realize by hitting “like” I may have put the pressure on you already, and I want you to know that I thought long and hard about unliking that like, but I worry that the damage I could do might be a lot worse. That it might really hurt you. And I could never do that. Not after what you did for me.
Love,
Jake
p.s. Someday I hope to send this letter. Just like the other 365.