A Letter to the Mother of the Woman I Love
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Briles,
SOMETIMES, IN PERSON, I'm not so good with words. Sometimes I muddle up what I want to say, swerve into unintended tangents, and quite frankly end up looking stupid. I just wanted the chance to explain everything, as shortly and distinctly as possible, in the hopes that what I consider to be our friendship through your daughter goes undisturbed. You may not care what I have to say--and if that's true I'd understand it if you tossed this in the trash right now--but I do believe that it's important, if not immediately to you then at least to Beth.
I've been tutoring Beth in math, English and college student success for the past few weeks now. I help her with online algebra tests, write posts for her discussion boards, and was in the process of helping her write her first English paper, a narrative. I enjoy this, because I enjoy teaching; it's what I'm going to college for, after all. But there is a college student success test that we took together last week, scoring an eighty-five if I'm correct, that we took again logged in under my name, thus giving me a hundred. Considering how much I was helping her with all of her other grades, I prematurely presumed that this would not bother her--and it didn't. That is, until this past Sunday. When we were about to take the new test, she stated her discomfort at doing it the way we did last week. So, in trying to find the fairest way to take the test, I proposed us take it separately (that way we would both get the grades we deserved bereft of outside help). She agreed, took her test first, and when I asked for the laptop to take mine she said, "Don't worry, I took it for you. You got a hundred."
When I asked her why she took the test anyway, she said that the only reason I'd been helping her was to "hold it over her head." I told her I was just trying to help. She responded by saying that she didn't need my help, and that she could just go to school and pay a tutor to help her with math and write her essays. She told me to just write the beginning of the paper for her and go. Considering that I had spend every night of the past two weeks helping her take her tests and even writing her posts for her, spending hours making sure she got good grades, I felt insulted by the idea that she thought so little of my assistance. I gave her the laptop back, told her she was the most ungrateful person I had ever met, that if she wanted any help for school she wasn't going to get it from me anymore, and that I hoped she failed her class. And, in the heat of moment, I told her that if asking to see a movie with her was hanging it over her head, then I'd go see the fucking movie by myself. And that's all I said...everything. I walked out, politely refused dinner, and left.
First and foremost, I apologize for using that language in your house, and I really never do--the worst I ever curse is gee-whiz and holy-molie, sad but true, and I never said anything but what's written above--but after two days of waiting for her to contact me, I realized the only way I was going to continue my friendship with her was to actively pursue it myself.
So that's what I did. After Steve's, I stopped by your house and apologized to her for saying what I did. That didn't really work, so I apologized harder. And when that didn't work, I explained to her that I still loved her, even after she broke up with me, and that no matter what happens or what she does to me, that love will never change. She apologized for her insults as well and still wants me to help her study. We hugged, made-up, and she told me what she told you...she told me what you said about her being better off without me. And while she was saying it all, I started to cry (not the most masculine reaction, I know). I couldn't help it, mainly because I desire your respect just as much as I desire the love of your daughter. I couldn't stand the idea of you hating me for reasons explained to you by an emotionally distraught Beth, one who may have told a slightly exaggerated, one-sided story. I want you to respect me for who I am, not who Beth told you I was that night.
Like I said before, I love your daughter and I respect her decisions as well as I respect you. In this case, her decision is to let me be her friend, and I only hope that, in time, I can be considered a member of your family once again as well.
Sincerely,
Cody Nicholas Walker
SOMETIMES, IN PERSON, I'm not so good with words. Sometimes I muddle up what I want to say, swerve into unintended tangents, and quite frankly end up looking stupid. I just wanted the chance to explain everything, as shortly and distinctly as possible, in the hopes that what I consider to be our friendship through your daughter goes undisturbed. You may not care what I have to say--and if that's true I'd understand it if you tossed this in the trash right now--but I do believe that it's important, if not immediately to you then at least to Beth.
I've been tutoring Beth in math, English and college student success for the past few weeks now. I help her with online algebra tests, write posts for her discussion boards, and was in the process of helping her write her first English paper, a narrative. I enjoy this, because I enjoy teaching; it's what I'm going to college for, after all. But there is a college student success test that we took together last week, scoring an eighty-five if I'm correct, that we took again logged in under my name, thus giving me a hundred. Considering how much I was helping her with all of her other grades, I prematurely presumed that this would not bother her--and it didn't. That is, until this past Sunday. When we were about to take the new test, she stated her discomfort at doing it the way we did last week. So, in trying to find the fairest way to take the test, I proposed us take it separately (that way we would both get the grades we deserved bereft of outside help). She agreed, took her test first, and when I asked for the laptop to take mine she said, "Don't worry, I took it for you. You got a hundred."
When I asked her why she took the test anyway, she said that the only reason I'd been helping her was to "hold it over her head." I told her I was just trying to help. She responded by saying that she didn't need my help, and that she could just go to school and pay a tutor to help her with math and write her essays. She told me to just write the beginning of the paper for her and go. Considering that I had spend every night of the past two weeks helping her take her tests and even writing her posts for her, spending hours making sure she got good grades, I felt insulted by the idea that she thought so little of my assistance. I gave her the laptop back, told her she was the most ungrateful person I had ever met, that if she wanted any help for school she wasn't going to get it from me anymore, and that I hoped she failed her class. And, in the heat of moment, I told her that if asking to see a movie with her was hanging it over her head, then I'd go see the fucking movie by myself. And that's all I said...everything. I walked out, politely refused dinner, and left.
First and foremost, I apologize for using that language in your house, and I really never do--the worst I ever curse is gee-whiz and holy-molie, sad but true, and I never said anything but what's written above--but after two days of waiting for her to contact me, I realized the only way I was going to continue my friendship with her was to actively pursue it myself.
So that's what I did. After Steve's, I stopped by your house and apologized to her for saying what I did. That didn't really work, so I apologized harder. And when that didn't work, I explained to her that I still loved her, even after she broke up with me, and that no matter what happens or what she does to me, that love will never change. She apologized for her insults as well and still wants me to help her study. We hugged, made-up, and she told me what she told you...she told me what you said about her being better off without me. And while she was saying it all, I started to cry (not the most masculine reaction, I know). I couldn't help it, mainly because I desire your respect just as much as I desire the love of your daughter. I couldn't stand the idea of you hating me for reasons explained to you by an emotionally distraught Beth, one who may have told a slightly exaggerated, one-sided story. I want you to respect me for who I am, not who Beth told you I was that night.
Like I said before, I love your daughter and I respect her decisions as well as I respect you. In this case, her decision is to let me be her friend, and I only hope that, in time, I can be considered a member of your family once again as well.
Sincerely,
Cody Nicholas Walker
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