My Dear Brother,
How is mom, dad, and little Lena? How is your first year of college? I miss you so much and I hope this email finds that you’re happy and well.
I’ve made it! I feel so optimistic that I will achieve all my dreams in America, and I hope you, dear brother, will raise the money to join me next year. The University transferred all my general credits and I have decided to major in Architecture since a professor kindly told me I have a natural eye for Art and a talent in Mathematics. I’m staying with a Jewish family called Chechik who has roots in our neighborhood in Warsaw.
The Chechik family has an old Victorian style home in a Middle-Class neighborhood where they take in foster children, and exchange students from Warsaw University. The mother and father are kind people, but they are always away on business; I’ve seen them on my arrival day and have not seen them since. The oldest daughter, Adriana, is in charge when they are gone. I have to confess to you that I am infatuated by her, I love her, although I’m not sure if she even likes me.
She’s a petite woman who has a larger than life presence, sometimes she will give me the pleasure of deep and meaningful conversation, but before I can entertain the thought of her enjoying my company she’ll crush my attempts to talk to her, either mock me with a deafening silence or a sarcastic quip that makes me feel two feet tall. My heart swells when she looks towards me, and breaks when she rejects me. She knows my heart is in her hands to keep or to crush as she sees fit. She has sensed my loneliness for my family and home and I have felt her warmth when she held my hand and whispered words of comfort and sincerity, she kissed my lobe, and smiled at me, we have truly seen each other, and I would do anything to return even a small fraction of the happiness she gives me. I left her roses the next morning with a heartfelt letter, which I later found in the trash. She saw me staring at her last Wednesday when I was at the dining room table using the family’s laptop, she asked me, “are you autistic?” I shook my head no, I can not tell you how pathetic I am.
She is a complex woman of substance and style and I am out of her league. She goes to the University with me and I have seen wealthy and charming men much more handsome than myself vie for her attention. She’s kind, she’s pleasant, she makes light conversation, and sometimes she leaves to go on a date with a man from time to time, it fills me with tremendous jealousy and self-loathing, but she is always back home before the sun goes down. She’s my age, young and free, and I have the feeling that she will not give herself to men who are below her.
I will confess my love to her. I don’t want you to think of her as cruel; you don’t know how complex this woman is. I’m feeling brave. She will laugh at me, or make me the happiest man alive, but either way she will know my heart belongs to her, to keep or to break, as she sees fit. Please wish me luck, brother, I could use your good luck tonight.
Love,
Jay
