Amy Weber

Dear Amy,

I just want you to know that there is no point to what I am going to write. There really isn't any purpose for writing you. I can confidently say this for one simple reason, I don't' know what I am going to write. Forgive me if I go astray. Forgive me if I run afoul. With infinite possibilities staring me in the face, I cower and run to a dark and forgiving corner for I cannot think of a thing to write about. Amy, surely you won't hold this against me. I could speak of your profession or your success, but in the self-centered world of Orpheous, I would find it more pleasing if the subject was me. I, however, am finding myself rather boring today and I fear that you are beginning to agree.

Have you ever written an open-ended letter and then sent it to someone who you don't know? It's an interesting phenomenon. For I, being of sound mind, like to pontificate on subjects, but feel empty when I draw the subject to a close and no one else gets to share in my fancy. You may receive this letter. You may not. It is more about the possibility that for a few seconds in time I may drag you into my world. Maybe reaching a dark recess in your brain, stimulating some ions causing you to walk away saying hmmm? Or what? Or huh? Although, I write this with my feet firmly planted on the ground so I realize that the channels to you can only be as immense as the red tape littering the intersection of our paths.

Sometimes I think if our roles were reversed would I be up to the same shenanigans? Would I reach out to some unsuspecting nameless and fame-less person, saying something, anything, in an effort to share some time. Well Amy, no I probably wouldn't. Frankly, if I received a little more stimulation from my position in the food chain of corporate society, I probably wouldn't even be writing you. I guess you can read between the lines and see that I am merely using you and I apologize for it. I am using your name and address as an escape. An escape that affords me the luxury of investigating the endless possibilities of life all while using the time that proves to be such a burden to me.

Now this is not to be a solemn correspondence, rather it is a celebration of sorts. I realize that patience is taking the lead and that in due time all will be worked out. With this knowledge, Amy I hope you will celebrate with me. Celebrate with me this sunshiny day. Celebrate with me the fact that not only is today Friday, but I have already had two good nights of partying this week. Celebrate with me the fact that I hit a recent hot streak with the ladies. Amy, while we're at it, let's take a minute to celebrate you. Way to go!

Well Amy, with that being said let me bid you a fond farewell. It has been a pleasure while it lasted. Rest assured that our mission has been completed. The recess bell is soon to ring and I am soon to traverse the streets of New York City. Free at last, thank God almighty, I'm free at last.

Sincerely,

Orpheous Roy

www.amyweber.net