Letter from Isabelle 3

This entry is for Writers Island: The Promise



Read part 1 here.
Read part 2 here.

Date: December 2, 2007

Dear L,

There was an empty seat next to me on the train today. It was in orange - your favorite color. I remember how you said your favorite color should be bright and cheery. Pink was your first favorite but you switch to orange because you thought pink wasn't cheerful enough and that it also looks like blood when it became dark.

Remember how we used to ride the trains to school? I've always enjoyed those moments sitting next to you or standing next to you at the poles. You've always made sure no one trample on me, taking care of me as if I was your baby sister even though we are the same age.

I felt lonesome and the emptiness of missing you stayed me with even as I got off the train.

I started a new job today. But wherever I go, I would feel like a temp. There is no permanent home for me now. I change jobs like I change my clothes. I change things with no regard to their consequences. It was always easier when you were here. You kept me still. You gave me confidence to make my own decisions. I'm not saying I am lost without you but it does sound that way doesn't it?

Remember the promise we made to each other when turned sixteen? It was easy to make promises back then when we thought we knew our future. Do you remember the one promise we made that we always thought we would both keep even if we don't keep the others? Do you remember what it was?

We both promised that we would be together no matter what distances that might separate us. We would be in each other's lives even if for a few days or a few seconds. I guess we both broke that promise. It has been eight years since you left us, left me. Eight years - sounds like a long time. Time had sneaked pass me without me ever having to look at the calendar. How forgettable these past years has been. I didn't even try to look for you. It seems rather useless to try to find someone in such a huge city. But doesn't mean I have given up.

Whatever promises we had made didn't seem to matter now. Remember the song that we both liked - Downtown train? You didn't like the Tom Waits version but the Everything but the Girl acoustic version where it was a duet. That was our favorite song. Remember the words?

Outside another yellow moon
punched a hole in the nighttime, yes
I climb through the window and down the street
shining like a new dime
the downtown trains are full with all those Brooklyn girls
they try so hard to break out of their little worlds

You wave your hand and they scatter like crows
they have nothing that will ever capture your heart
they're just thorns without the rose
be careful of them in the dark
oh if I was the one
you chose to be your only one
oh baby can't you hear me now

Will I see you tonight
on a downtown train
every night is just the same
you leave me lonely now

I know your window and I know it's late
I know your stairs and your doorway
I walk down your street and past your gate
I stand by the light at the four way
you watch them as they fall
they all have heart attacks
they stay at the carnival
but they'll never win you back

Will I see you tonight on a downtown train
where every night is just the same you leave me lonely
will I see you tonight on a downtown train
all of my dreams just fall like rain
all upon a downtown train

Whenever I hear that song, I would always remember the times we had together on the train. We would ride them even when we have no place to go. When it is empty, you sing that song at the top of your voice. I would try to follow you but I let you sing all the parts. You had such a beautiful singing voice - not too high and not too low.

I've never forgotten you even when I have not seen your face for so long. But your face now seem like a blur in my memory. It rarely surface in my mind as sharp as it used to. Nor can I remember if you were taller than me or if your blue eyes were darker or lighter than mine. You probably were taller but then you usually wore a lot of tall shoes to make yourself more noticeable. Memories, they play so strangely in your mind over time. Sometimes they are clear and sometimes a complete blur. I often look through photos of you so I won't forget but the pictures - they are so faded now. They don't represent you, not the real you anyway.

I will end this here as it is time for me to go to my new job.

Isabelle

Read Part 4 here.