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Sam stared through the rain-coated windshield into the thick, murky darkness ahead of him, while unconsciously listening to the steady rhythm of raindrops beating against his car. Almost mechanically, he raised the half empty bottle of tequila to his mouth and took a large gulp, and shivered from the damp, chilly air. He knew he shouldn't be drinking in the car, but he wasn't planning on going anywhere. Besides, there was a storm, the roads were bad, and chances were no one would see his car in the parking lot at the beach park. And most of all, he just didn't care. He couldn't think, he couldn't move, and he didn't know where else to go. He couldn't be in his apartment�not when he would be reminded of her. He wouldn't drive anywhere; he intended to sleep it off in the car until morning.
His body felt numb, and if he had his way, his mind would soon be numb as well. He raised the bottle to his lips once again, and took another large gulp just as a bright flash of lightening illuminated Lake Michigan in front of him. It was followed moments later with a loud rumbling of thunder. Sam barely noticed.
Sam shivered once again from his damp clothing, and he pulled his coat around him tighter. He slid his hands in his pockets and continued looking out the window. After several moments, it finally registered that his hand was covering the article that he had printed out about Josie. A wave of nausea rolled through him as the visions of what had occurred earlier in the evening forced their way back into his mind. He slid his hand out of his pocket and grabbed the bottle again, this time taking several gulps. He would do whatever he had to do to be rid of the memories of seeing Josie - of confronting her - and most of all, that he had ever even met her.
He rolled his head against the backrest of the seat and looked up. How could she have done this to him? How could she have betrayed him like this? Sam let go of the bottle and slowly reached up and brushed his fingers over his lips. They still burned from the kiss they shared.
The kiss.
Sam couldn't help but think of the kiss: the most intense, overpowering kiss he had ever had in his life; a kiss that he had never meant to let happen between them. How was it possible that someone could feel so right in his arms, so intoxicating, so perfect, when that person was nothing but a fraud? How could he have been such a bad judge of character? It was almost a cruel joke.
Sam shook his head slightly as tears began to well up in his eyes. "How could I have fallen in love with her?" He heard himself asking out loud, as the heavy tears rolled down his cheeks.
Suddenly, becoming angry, Sam wiped the tears off his face and took a deep breath. "She's not worth my tears!" he tried to convince himself. He grabbed the bottle, once again, and drank another sip, before grabbing the article out of his pocket so he could tear it in half.
Holding it in front of him, Sam grabbed the top of the page and was about the begin tearing it when he noticed that instead of a computer printout, he held several crumpled pieces of stationary with Josie's handwriting on it.
Staring at it blankly, Sam then recognized it as Josie's letter: the letter she had tried to get him to read so he would understand. She had given it to him after all.
Sam was dumbstruck. Part of him wanted to read the letter, to have some explanation of why she did what she did. The other part of him wanted to burn it, rip it to shreds, let lightning hit it�anything so that he'd never have to look at it again. He continued to hold it in front of him as he debated what to do. Instead of deciding, he slid it back in his pocket, trying to pretend he had never seen it.
Sam closed his eyes, hoping that maybe the alcohol would take its effect on him and he would fall asleep before he did something he regretted�like read the letter. But all he could see on the backs of his eyelids were visions of Josie. As the minutes passed, he felt like the letter was burning a hole in his pocket.
Opening his eyes at last, Sam exhaled in disgust as he reached for the letter and held it in front of him. He was so disappointed with himself, but he had to read it. He didn't have the willpower to destroy it, as he knew he should. He turned the key one click in the ignition to engage the battery's power so that he could turn on the small round map reading light above his head. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath as he began reading the first words.
Dear Sam,
I'm writing this letter to you, although I know you will never read it, because the time has come for you to know the truth: the truth about who I am and how I feel about you. As difficult as I know it will be to admit this to you in person, I owe it to you to tell you these things face to face. I hope I can find the courage.
Sam paused for a moment and took a deep breath to collect himself and control his anger before continuing.
My life has changed so much since the first day I walked into your classroom. I know, on that day, you probably saw a shy, awkward teenager who didn't believe in herself. If that's what you saw, well, you weren't all that wrong. I was shy. I was awkward. And no, I didn't believe in myself. A lot happened to me to make me that person.
"Yeah, I'll bet," Sam sneered aloud in response to the written words on the page. "You conveniently forgot the part about not being a teenager!" he spat. He turned to the bottle in the seat next to him and took several gulps, as if it would help ease the pain of reading the letter. He closed his eyes for several moments, almost pleased with the dizzy feeling in his head, before reluctantly continuing on to the next paragraph.
When I was a little girl, my father used to read the book Cinderella to me. He used to tell me, "Josie, Pussycat, someday your prince will come. And when you meet your prince, you will fall in love and live happily ever after."
Maybe I grew up with the unrealistic notion that romance was a fairy tale - that there is a prince out there for every woman. But he instilled that belief in me and I carried it with me for a very long time.
At my last high school, I thought I met my prince. His name was Billy -- ironically, Billy Prince -- and he was the most beautiful, popular boy in the whole school. And I, unfortunately, was a lot like Cinderella, buried deep in a shell, hoping to break out of it.
Sam rolled his eyes, as if mocking Josie, but he kept reading nonetheless.
One day, I thought all my dreams had come true. Billy Prince was asking me, Josie Geller, to the prom.
I know I wasn't a pretty girl. In fact, I somehow earned the nickname "Josie Grossie" and was tortured through my years at that high school by being called this name, among others. So for Billy Prince to pick me out of a crowd and ask me to be his prom date... well, I thought the fairy tale was finally happening for me.
"Josie Grossie?" How was that possible? Sam wondered.
Sam felt a slight tugging on his heart. He wasn't sure if it was out of jealousy of Billy Prince being able to openly express an interest in Josie where he could not, or if he felt a little of her pain. Again, he closed his eyes, unaware of the haze that the alcohol was beginning to cause in his head, and tried to visualize what Josie must have looked like as a teenager. Smiling a little, he saw Josie with her soft, blond ringlets surrounding her lovely face. Of course she was beautiful. How could she have been anything but stunning? He sighed loudly and refocused on the letter, trying to find where he left off.
So when the big day came, I put on what I thought was the most beautiful dress, did my hair and makeup and waited for him to pick me up. As his limo slowly approached my house, I remember smiling and thinking to myself, ' Josie Geller, your prince has finally come.'
Unfortunately, my dreams were all shattered in an instant when Billy and his "real" date thought it would be fun to humiliate "Josie Grossie" by not only showing her that the invitation to the prom was a joke, but also by throwing raw eggs at her from the car window on their way by, accompanied by taunts and jeers. I was so humiliated, so hurt, that I spent the night crouched in the bushes behind the house, crying, not wanting to deprive my parents of the joy of knowing that their only daughter was asked to the prom.
Sam felt hot tears sting his eyes while reading about her painful experience, immediately feeling angry and sad that someone could be so cruel to do that to her, to hurt her that way. Then his rational side took over and he became determined not to let her affect him or make him feel sorry for her. He took a deep breath and continued.
I don't think I ever fully recovered from that experience. In one moment's time, I went from feeling special and wanted, to feeling like a rejected fool. From that moment on, I think a little piece of me died, as did the belief that true love, as well as my prince, really existed.
I have never shared this with anyone. But for the first time, I'm sharing this with you, not because I wanted you to feel sorry for me, but because I wanted you to know what made me who I am today. The real Josie Geller.
"Yeah, who knows who that is," Sam said out loud, trying to convince himself that he hated her, that he didn't believe her. But it was too late. He had already begun feeling her pain and wanted to reach out to her.
You got to see the old Josie Geller on that first day I was in your classroom� "Josie Grossie." But what you don't know about that Josie Geller is that she wasn't a shy, seventeen year old student. She was a timid, under-confident twenty five year old copy editor from the Chicago Sun Times, who was put into your classroom to write an article about high school students today.
Finally, the truth. Sam just stared at the words "twenty five year old copy editor". His head felt a bit heavy from the alcohol as he focused on the words and read them again. So, she was going to tell him the truth. Maybe.
He exhaled loudly and closed his eyes, visualizing what Josie had just written. Through the effects of the alcohol, he struggled to see Josie as anything but the beautiful woman he knew and loved. He couldn't imagine anyone torturing her the way she described, but he felt anger and sadness, all the same. He opened his eyes, feeling slightly dizzy, and continued reading.
And the experience I just spoke of did happen to me in High School, but it didn't happen last year, it happened seven years ago, and I have been carrying it with me ever since. The only way I could survive those years was to throw myself into college and my career. And that's what brought me to your classroom. My job.
All these years, I became so driven, so focused on the only thing I thought was safe - the dream of becoming a reporter. You see, this writing assignment, the one that brought me to South Glen South, was my very first assignment - my first big chance at being something other than a copy editor. What I didn't know, was that this assignment, which started out as an innocent piece on high school kids today, would turn into something that hurt someone else. As much as I wanted to realize my career dreams, no job is worth causing pain to someone I care about. Unfortunately, it was too late for me to back out until the damage was already done.
Sam reflected for a moment on the time he spent with Josie. She had seemed so genuine, so caring. That was why finding out the truth had hurt him so much. But he wanted to believe that she didn't mean to hurt him�desperately.
I have always shied away from anything other than what was safe, for fear of being hurt. Over these past few years, while I was so focused on furthering my career, the only thing I felt passionate about, I think I became a little bit more removed from who I was and who I could be. I closed my heart and emotions to anyone other than my family and a few friends. Because I lost the dream of love and finding my prince, I never let myself get close to someone else for fear of being hurt once again.
And now, I'll admit one more thing to you that I have never shared with anyone else:
To this day, I have never been kissed.
Sam stopped reading and gasped, as he immediately read the sentence again.
To this day, I have never been kissed.
I never wanted to be if it meant having a broken heart. I have been saving my first kiss because I want to be able to treasure it forever. I've been saving it for someone who meant something special to me, someone who would never hurt me. I now know that someone is you.
His head began spinning as the recollection of their kiss hit him like a freight train. He quickly reached up to his lips, as if touching them would confirm if it had really happened. A flood of visualizations flashed before him, as he remembered hastily pulling her to him, kissing her with an urgency and hunger he had never felt in his life. He felt the bile beginning to rise in his throat as he looked as his hands: the hands that had traveled up her body and caressed her breasts as if she were an experienced, worldly woman used to that sort of treatment from men instead of the complete and total innocent she actually was.
"Oh my God!"
He was suddenly aware that not only had he stolen her first kiss, but that in his need to satiate his hunger for her in that moment, and to hurt her just a little for what she had done to him, he had stolen the innocence of her dream by making the experience something horrible that she would never forget.
"Oh my God," he repeated, as the tears began rolling down his cheeks. "Josie, I'm so sorry," he said aloud, as if she could hear him. He felt short of breath as he somehow forced himself to read the rest.
You have given me the gift of finding out who I am and what I want from life. Because of you, I have rediscovered a part of myself that I thought had died long ago - the girl who believes in fairy tales and that true love really exists. I had buried that part of me long ago.
And, in return, I know that all I have given you is lie after lie. I know what I have done is unforgivable and I can't undo the damage I have caused.
There have been so many times I wanted to reach out to you, to tell you the truth, but there was always something in the way. I can't continue the disguise any longer. Not when it means hurting someone I care so much about.
Sam, you have my heart. You had it since the moment I met you.
I'm in love with you.
Sam was now almost sobbing as her gentle, loving words surrounded him. He felt sick to his stomach.
I don't even know where to begin apologizing for what I have done. I know there is nothing I can do to take back the pain I have caused you. All I ask is that you consider giving me a second chance to prove myself to you and somehow show you that I'm not that person you think I am. I don't think I could take it if you went on thinking I intentionally meant to hurt you.
Through this experience, I have learned that the dream of love is worth fighting for, even if it means giving up on another dream. After I am finished writing this letter, I will begin writing my letter of resignation from the Chicago Sun Times. Finding my true self and rediscovering the fairy tale means more to me than any career ambitions I may have had in the past. Especially when that career is something that is causing so much pain.
Now that you have read this, I know that this fairy tale probably won't have a happy ending for me, but at the very least I have learned how to love and trust someone again. And I owe that all to you.
I know that you would never break my heart. You would never hurt me, the way I have hurt you through my betrayal. I am so sorry. I hope someday you can forgive me.
All my love,
Josie
Sam's body began shaking as he started sobbing. He rested his head against the steering wheel, and the moment he closed his eyes, he saw the vision of Josie, standing in front of him shivering in her cold, damp apartment, after he had kissed her and told her that he never would again.
He'd walked out on her.
He'd left her there.
Alone.
Hurt.
Broken-hearted.
He knew, at that moment, the tortured look on Josie's face would be engraved in his mind forever. "What have I done?" his voice quivered.
Suddenly, Sam's head began to spin and he felt his stomach turn as the large amount of alcohol he consumed finally took its evil effect. He covered his mouth and opened the car door, stumbling through the pouring rain as fast as he could. Finding the side of the parking lot, he began retching.
After being sick for several minutes, Sam, who was again soaking wet, rested one arm against a large boulder and leaned his heavy head against it. He sat that way for a long time, knowing that he deserved every bit of misery that he was in. Taking shallow breaths, he cried softly, knowing that he had destroyed the hope and dreams of the woman he loved because he'd been too self-absorbed to let her explain.
"I have to find Josie," he mumbled to himself.
"I don't think you're in any shape to be going anywhere, buddy."
At the sound of another's voice, Sam lifted his head slowly and looked up to see a police officer standing next to him. "Except, maybe with me."
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