It started with a dedication.... Letters & Conversations

You know when The Cure announce a tour or a show and you sit there talking to yourself in the mirror trying to figure out what you would say to Robert or Roger or another member of the band?

Or you're listening to the songs and singing along in the car and you think, maybe I should write a letter - would he read it?
What if you are just walking down the street and you just happen to bump into him on the street, do you remember the conversation you practiced in the mirror?

Steve was kind enough to share a thread back from 2013 about one sentence... But I thought I would take a bit further, do you have a letter you want to share? A conversation piece?

Don't know what I am talking about? I'll share a letter I wrote awhile ago.... enjoy

Dear RS

I think I have started a letter to you every year for the past 23…4..er 25 years or so… back when I first learned of the Cure and pictured you playing in my grade school auditorium and having a fight backstage with your girlfriend Elise because she doesn’t want you to play A Letter to Elise anymore. Give me a break, I was 9. There was no internet to figure out who you were. I just knew your name, your birthday and all of the lyrics to the Wish album. I would count the years between us and wonder if you could have been my dad. You could have, a young dad. I think in my 9 year old little girl fantasy you had kids and we were going to be best friends….if I ever got out to England. I also think Elise was jealous of Wendy because she took up all of your time. Eventually I grew out of 9 and became 12 and declared in science class to my friends that I wanted to lick your face. That has been a joke (maybe) ever since.


Life continued to happen. I collected every tape and cd I could. I learned all of the lyrics to all of the songs and when my parents finally let me go to a show I cried hysterical OMG! tears. I still remember the feel of the tickets in my hand…the tickets that sold out 3 people in line after me. That moment enough could keep me going for years…. Finally after being denied the Wish Tour and being denied the Swing Tour I was finally allowed to go the Dream Tour…not just the Dream Tour but also the promo show the February prior. I will not mention that a certain friend of my got to meet you at this show because I became friends with him a year or two after that…but still, I might be a little jealous (Michael!!). 


Was that it? Was that life? Listening to your music, going to the shows…. I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to do with my life. I tried learning the guitar and could play a little bit of Out of This World… not much though. I definitely do not remember it anymore. I did some community theatre and short films. I did some writing, still doing some writing, still want to do some writing. I love writing. I don’t have time to write, I work. Wouldn’t it be nice to get paid doing what we love? Perhaps that is the difference between you and me; you work hard. I work….I procrastinate until later….and later…oh look, even later. Then just a little bit later I might be ready to get finished…get started. Let’s just drift though life for a while. I bet this is why you are deliriously happy with your life and I am deliriously depressed. I must fight this sickness, find a cure.

I think I found my cure… The music. The words. The melody. Oh the music… I couldn’t ever love it more. It makes me happy, so happy. Bad day at work? Have a sing along in the car on the way home and feel better, feel inspire to start writing…finish writing. Bad break up? Disintegration my friend, Disintegration. Not everyone is entitled to a love like yours, I know. I put it on my Christmas list every year – a love like Robert and Mary’s. Thanks for being my cure.


I never finish my letters because I never know how to finish. Did I say everything I want to say? No, who has time for that….? There is so much more, but you’ll never see this. You’ll never know and you know what? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with you not knowing who I am. I’m okay with you not knowing I exist. I would not be satisfied if I met you. I would not be satisfied with a brief meeting, a quick hello. I would need so much more. I would need a conversation, a friend. A memory would be too hard...but maybe someday.