Things have been too difficult lately for me to share stories. So I thought I’d share one of the letters Steve wrote to me over that first summer we were together. This letter was written on 7/17/89.
Once upon a time, in a land not that far away, lived a frog, who dreamed of being a prince. This was an unusual frog, as he had quite a long neck, and liked to make weird sounds on the harmonica. Anyway, this frog was quite weird or did I say that already? One day, the sun was shining, the birds were shining, the flowers were shining, and our frog, remember him(?), he was sitting on his lily pad and dreaming about a princess he knew of. He dreamed of kissing the princess, but that probably wouldn’t do as darned if he wasn’t an inexperienced frog, too. He dreamed of holding her, but again this frog was given to having a scratchy chin and smelly T-shirt, so that probably also wouldn’t do. So the frog just sat there, a-shining in the blossoming sun, among the chirping flowers, and listening to the birds making weird harmonica sounds, or, was that the frog?
Anyway, this princess, oh beautiful she was, and quite nice, too, was walking down a path to the river, thinking sad thoughts. Sad they were, for she was a princess alone. Alone I say, alone. Alone, alone, alone. Her mind thus occupied, she failed to spy, upon his pad, the frog. Oh but the frog saw her, and his little heart began to thump. With a leap, a jump so fantastical that the birds quit their melodic flirtations in awe, the frog–you know, the long-necked one—hurled himself into the princesses arms. She, surprised, was about to utter, “Ooh yuck! Icky icky frog!” when our hero–the frog of course, began to express his total love for her in all the froggy heartfeltness he could muster. Now it was her heart a-thumping, and she planted a deep, no, no, that’s wrong, she planted a long slow deep wet soft kiss on the frog, that turned him, oh wow, into a long-necked guy with a scratchy chin and smelly T-shirt. So to make a long story short, or wrap up a long story, or a short story, they lived happily ever after, but that don’t mean she ain’t evil, David! (Note–The last part was something we always said to each other).
Pretty dumb-eh? I’ve got you on my mind, and am so glad you’ll take a froggy sort of guy like me. Oh Nancy, I miss you. I’ve got Springsteen’s “Nebraska” album on–it’s so sad and moody and doesn’t help the ache in my chest when I think of you and how I want to be with you, but the summer is plodding along, and we will be together. I love you Nancy.
Write to me Nancy. Tell me you love me.
Gee…..I needed that.
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