|
letter
dear grandpa lars
i am so sorry you are dead. i am so sorry i didn't communicate with you more during these past years. you were always so good to me. even when i was naughty you were good. you taught me so much. i know i promised i would tell you all about my first time. i know i promised i would let you know before it happened so you could make sure i was safe and everything would be all right.
i thought about you so many times when i thought it might happen. when i thought the boy was going to be the one. you were always there.
now it is done. did you see? did you watch from heaven? i know it's silly to believe that, but part of me does believe.
hecker is a nice boy. we wet together all through high school. oh oh, a freudian slip. i meant went together. yesterday we finally wet together. it hurt a little, but not as much as i thought it would. but i think i'm a little sore inside. he was so big. it took him a log time to get in. i mean a long time. something is wrong with my n's. he was very gentle. his penis felt soft against me, but hard at the same time. i wonder how come i didn't type peis. how would you say that? peis. it looks like a strange word. like something small and sad and slightly prehistoric. something that didn't survive into the preset day and age. i did preset on purpose. my sticky n. my sticky end. some of it is leaking out. right after hecker was done i sent him home. "please go," i told him. he was confused. i was confused too, but i told him it wall all right, i just needed to be alone for a little while. alone with you.
obviously there is no place i can send this. it would be like sending a letter to sata claus. oh oh, left out another n. satan clas. except there's nothing i want. except maybe to have hecker back here. back in me. fucking me.
love
elle
story and illustration by Mat Twassel |
