subject line: the girl with the stars in her eyes.


fillmore, new york

I was just an 18-year-old girl who happened to wander into that bar because she was looking for a loud place to drown out her own thoughts. Not looking for anyone or anything. Just noise. Just sound.

And he was there, a 23-year-old guy stuck somewhere between being a boy and man. He was sitting on the fifth bar stool from the door and turned around as I walked quietly and discreetly inside, smiling to himself like a child who’s imagination has run wild. And it wasn’t seductive like in the movies, Hollywood has it all wrong. He had a goofy, lopsided grin that showed half of his teeth more than the rest.

This guy waved me over to him, and I went against all my inner thoughts and feelings. I sat down gently on the fourth stool and we talked. About Everything. God, Politics, Family, Fears and Dreams. I told him how I wanted to write short stories about The Girl with the Stars in Her Eyes and he told me how peaches were his favorite fruit because his grandmother would make cobbler every time that he visited before she passed away almost a year ago. I told him how I have figured out that sometimes, you have to be your own silver lining and he told me how he started drawing so that he could escape this world at times. I was more vulnerable with a stranger than anyone else, and he with me, and I am not sure if that should terrify or calm me.

But anyways, after hours of talking he offered to walk back to my house. I accepted. Bitter sweetly. I am not one to get emotionally attached quickly, but something about this guy made me want to see him again. But I am way too terribly introverted to do anything about that. So, before I went inside my house, he embraced me and kissed me on my forehead. Then he departed, with that same dope-ish grin plastered on his face.


3 days later, today, I was putting on the same jacket that I wore that night and I found a letter tucked in my pocket that I had missed somehow in the moment. It read:

Dear girl with the only stars I wish to see in her eyes,

You are outside on the phone with your friend, so I figured I had some time to write this out to you. It’s not on the best paper, but bare with me. You have so far this evening... I had been praying before you walked into this bar for God to send me someone tonight to save me from the loneliness. I know now that you had been sent as an angel to do that. And I wanted to thank you. I have never had someone who I could be this open with before, except my grandmother and I think that makes you pretty stellar. I know we only have known each other for 5 1/2 hours, but I want you to know I think you can do it. I think you can write those stories and open that house for kids and do anything else your heart has a passion for. I don’t know if it means anything, but I believe in you. More than I believe that the peaches will always bloom. Keep going, and I am here if you need me.

keeping on keeping on,

the guy that wants to illustrate your books and your life.