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April 28, 1962
Dear Bob,
Contrary to your parting instructions, I thought about it
twice.
In fact I thought about it a whole lot more than twice -- like
multiple times every single day for about two years after you
left. And I don't mean just sitting around wondering why, either. I'm
talking about standing and pacing and mulling over all the whys,
wherefores, how comes and what ifs.
Most
nights I was up until 3:00 am doing nothing but thinking. Ran up a
whopping electrical bill for a while there. I brought this big floor
lamp down from the attic that burns up a lot of juice (I never used it
while you were here). Then after a while it occurred to me that
since I wasn't reading or watching TV or anything there wasn't really any
use in turning on my light. Don't you think?
By the way, sometimes in the first few weeks after
we broke up
I'd look outside my window and there'd be some guy
standing in the shadows on the other side of the street. At first I
thought it was you, but every time I called out your name (hah! Can you imagine me yelling like that?) the creep
just stood there like he was deaf or something. So I guess that was pretty useless too, huh?
Well, I'd better get to the point. Gosh, I hope I say the
right thing here. We never were much good at
talking, but I had to let you know: the rumors you've been
told are true. There is a child. Her name is Harriet, she's almost five
years old now and I'd like to get her into a decent boarding school. I
don't want her walking back and forth to public school, what with all
the crumbum drifters roaming the roads these days. They've all got this
sicko lost-in-thought look of wonderment on their face. Bunch of
losers. I bet half of them don't even have any idea where they're going.
What I'm trying to say is, I just want what's best for her. I want to treat her with
kindness. Or at least better than I apparently treated you. Not that
you seemed to mind that much.
Hey, you remember that heart-shaped silver locket you gave me?
I thought I'd let Harriet have it when she turns 18. A little keepsake from you. Really though,
I guess what I want is your seal.
Of approval. Some closure, you know?
So anyway, bottom line, I was hoping that maybe you could
contribute a little something to your daughter's education.
Think about it, all right?
I hope you're faring well.
Bye! (Ugh -- terrible word, isn't it?)
Suze
PS:
I didn't actually get up that morning until 11:30. Damn rooster had
been keeping me awake so much I decided to start sleeping with
earplugs. You think my time isn't precious?
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the name Bob Dylan a lot. Bob Dylan and Don't Think
Twice It's All Right lyrics, or Don't Think Twice It's Alright lyrics.
Or even Bob
Dylan and don't think twice it's allright lyrics. I bet Bob Dylan
himself never typed his own name, Bob Dylan, as many times on a single
page as I am typing it, Bob Dylan, now. And if Bob Dylan ever sees this
page himself, he, Bob Dylan, will probably have to look for a long time
before finding his name, Bob Dylan, on it. That's because "Bob
Dylan" is all the way down here in the fine type and Bob Dylan himself
might not have the patience to find "Bob Dylan", his name, down here
with all the other Bob Dylan mentions. But hey, Bob Dylan, as Bob Dylan
said, don't think twice. It's all right. Pretty much. I
warned you. Bob Dylan.
Aren't you glad I avoided the temptation to just type "Bob Dylan"  times?
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