Love, Danny

Dear Elizabeth,

I first met you a few weeks ago. Do you remember? I was walking with my father to the park in Rosemary Square, and we ran into you and your mother. In all my five years of life, I had never seen someone as beautiful as you. We did not talk for long, but before we left you had introduced yourself as Ellie and I had called myself Daniel. 

Yes, you may call me Danny. 

I have been working up the courage to write for quite some time now. I regret that I haven’t written sooner, but since the newfound disease that my father calls “coronavirus” has forced us all into seclusion, I can no longer wait. 

We may not see each other for quite some time, Ellie. 

This letter has one purpose, and that is to tell you how I truly feel. I love you, Ellie. I love you to the moon and back. Sorry, that was cliché. I love you more than macaroni loves cheese, more than peanut butter loves jelly, more than spaghetti loves meatballs. I hope that you will excuse the analogies--I am a poet at heart, after all. I wish to know how you feel about me as well. Please respond promptly, as I cannot wait another moment for your answer:

Do you like me? (Check Yes or No)

☐ Yes

☐ No

Love, Danny.

~~~

Dear Elizabeth, 

I have not yet received a response to the question in the previous letter. That is fine, of course. I imagine a woman such as yourself would not have had very much time, although I can’t fathom where all of your time has gone for two weeks. Yes, it has been two weeks since I last wrote. 

No matter. I’m sure you still need some time to decide. Take as long as you need, but please answer as soon as you know how you feel.

School shall be starting in the fall. I trust that you will be taking kindergarten in Fairview Elementary, as will I. I pray that we end up in the same class. 

Do you? 

Of course, with the quarantine--as it is now being called--school may not commence at all. How would I last? I don’t think I could stand another month, nay, another day without seeing your face. 

We must plan a meeting. Would you be willing to meet me in Rosemary Park on Saturday next? Do respond quickly this time, as Saturday next will be much sooner than two weeks.

Love, Danny.

~~~

Dear Elizabeth,

Again, no response. I am beginning to think that you are ignoring me. 

I showed up in Rosemary on Saturday, but you were not there. I will be there again next week, and I hope to see you there as well. If not, I’m not sure what I will do. Perhaps I will write a sonnet. Or build a monument in the name of our broken love. Or, maybe, I will just throw a tantrum. Please come.

I’m wondering, now, if I offended you in some way with my letters? Please understand, I hold you in the utmost respect. I really do want you to take your time on the question--if you answer too hastily, things will almost certainly take a turn for the worse later. Or, maybe this is about my rumored relationship with Alaya Birkham. Believe me, this is a completely innocent friendship. If it seemed at any time like we were flirting, I can guarantee it was completely incidental.

Please, come to Rosemary. Perhaps we can discuss this whole matter there.

Love, Danny.

~~~

Dear Elizabeth,

I saw you at Rosemary, but I’m not sure you saw me. You knew that I would be there, and yet still no response. What’s worse, you were there with another man. 

Yes, I saw him, too. 

Dylan Orbach, right? A first grader, if I am not mistaken. I can’t believe that you of all people would go behind my back and date someone so much older than you, I simply can’t. 

I would sincerely appreciate some sort of confirmation that your business with him was strictly professional. And don’t bother ignoring me this time, because I will be sending weekly reminders. Please don’t think that I am doing this because I do not trust you. I still respect and trust you, and so I am trusting you to answer me swiftly and truthfully.

Sincerely, Danny.

~~~

Dear Elizabeth,

I am still awaiting a response concerning the Dylan Orback business. Please respond promptly.

Love, Danny.

~~~

Dear Ellie,

Still awaiting a response.

Love, Danny.

~~~

Ellie,

Still waiting.

Danny.

~~~

Dear Ellie,

It has been nearly a month. I suppose your lack of response should be indication enough--I simply don’t interest you. I suppose I’m not the most exciting person. I know my Hotwheels could never compare to those of Dylan, and I can’t watch PG-13 movies yet. My mother won’t even let me have my own phone until I am a teenager. I may not be the smartest, fastest, or handsomest guy for you, but I thought you would look past that. I thought what we had was truly something. And yet, you have rejected me. 

Sometimes, I walk back to the spot where we met. I think about your hair, your face, and the way you said hello. It all seems so distant a memory now. I can’t go to Rosemary anymore either--it’s just too painful. 

I wish the best for you and Dylan. May your days be many, may your burdens be light, and may your children never have to experience the pain of falling in love.

Sincerely, Danny.

~~~

Dear Ellie,

Oh, come now. I was only joking! I may have overreacted slightly to the whole “Dylan Orbach” business. But what can you expect from me? I am only human after all, and I can get jealous. No, the truth is, I could never be without you. I love you too much.

You know, it occurred to me last night, after I sent my letter, that you might not be able to read. This is fine, of course. It’s perfectly natural for those of our age. In fact, some studies show that most children don’t learn until they are 6 or 7. My main concern is that, in this case, I may just be sending letters to your mother. 

If this is Elizabeth’s mother, hello! You have a beautiful daughter, and I am sorry for any aggression I may have implied in my previous letters. I understand that you may want to protect your daughter by not reading these letters to her or returning her responses to me. If that is the case, please, I beg you, let her see these anyway. I really do love her very much, and I need a letter from her to keep me going. 

I’m sure that you know as much as anyone else how hard this “quarantine” has been on us all. I haven’t seen another person of my age since the “Dylan Orbach” incident a month ago, and I don’t expect I will until school begins next fall. If you would grant your daughter permission to join me on a date--or even just write me back--I would be eternally grateful. I promise to treat her with all of the respect she deserves and more, and I will spare no expense to make her the happiest kindergartner this world has ever known. Whatever she wants will be hers. Juice boxes flown in from France, gourmet fruit snacks from Guatemala, you name it. Just give me one chance and I promise I will be the best man I can be.

However, if this is Ellie reading this, and you are just ignoring me, then you are a poopy-head.

Love, Danny.

~~~

Dear Ellie(‘s mother),

Still nothing from either of you. Maybe something is wrong with me. Maybe I am not the kind you were looking for. 

You can’t blame me for believing that I had found the one. 

I guess there is no point in writing anymore. Maybe I will see you in school, maybe not. But if I will not be receiving any letters back, it would be too painful for me to keep on sending letters. Ellie, if you are reading this, I won’t be writing anymore and I probably won’t ever see you again. You were the best I’ve ever known in all of my five years of life.

Goodbye, Danny.

~~~

Dear Danny,

Yes, this is Elizabeth, or Ellie as you call me. I have only now been reading your letters--yes, I can read--and you intrigue me very much. Of course, I have been watching you, hoping that you would come over and talk to me. I would have loved to read and respond to your letters, but it seems that you sent them to my neighbor’s address instead of mine. They just now realized the letters were all meant for me, and not them. Please excuse this misunderstanding--my neighbors are not the brightest bunch.

The best you’ve ever known, am I? But, Danny, you hardly even know me, although I hope and expect that that will change soon. I will be taking kindergarten with Ms. Rockford and, from what I hear, so will you. Maybe we’ll even be able to sit next to each other. Then I can ignore you on purpose and drive you completely insane. I’m looking forward to it.

As for the whole “Dylan Orbach” business, don’t worry about him. He’s very charming, of course, and extremely handsome, but he was not for me. Besides, I am sure he was only flirting  with me because he wanted to get in good with my sister. She’s in second grade, you know. In any case, maybe if you forgive me for my fling with him, I’ll forgive you for your “friendship” with Alaya Birkham. 

I’ll see you in school, poopy-head.

Love, Ellie.