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Dear Harold,

It was real good to see you the other night. Not many guys would have bought a girl pretzels on a first date. To me it was a real sign of you. Like a statement, I guess you would say.

Anyway, I think you should not be too embarrassed because your fly stuck open at the dance. I don't think people noticed. They looked at you and laughed because of that funny joke you told I am sure. I felt bad you had to explain it three times to those dummies at our table. But some folks just are not too swift you know.

Thank you too for your real sweet apology. I have to admit I have never danced with a man who sweat so much. And you are right. It was uncomfortable when it rolled down my shoulder. But a strapless dress is a risk and I do appreciate your concern.

You also don't have to worry about how the corsage got pinned. It didn't go too deep and the dress is washable. Cold water works wonders.

You are an unusual man, Harold. I have never known anyone like you before. I think sometimes people do not appreciate eccentricity for the gift that it is. Doing rumba moves to that waltz might be frowned on in some circles, but believe me it sets a person apart.


Also, I have to say I enjoyed the special effort you made to make the evening magic. I really did not mind changing the tire, so please don't worry about that. I know you couldn’t see that Don't-Back-Up sign because of how fogged up your glasses got.

Well, Harold, I'm running out of time. And of things to say. It's not often I do this with someone after only one date, believe me. When your hardware convention comes to town again, please look me up.

Your friend, Roseanne


Dear Harold,

It was nice of you to send me the can of mixed nuts and I only hope you’re not making some sort of statement about me and my friends. Knowing you, however, that is not likely so I guess it is just me. In any case, I should know by now that this is just right in keeping with the you of you, as my friend Swami Phil says.

I’m real sorry to hear that the tie I gave you got caught in the key making machine. I cannot believe people laughing at you about that, Harold. It is a shame they do not know you the way I do.

Did you like the box of chocolates I sent?

I look forward to your visit.

Hugs, Roseanne



Dear Harold,

Gosh, if I had known that your were allergic to macadamia nuts I would never have sent that particular can to you. Has the swelling gone down? Is the rash still there? People can be so cruel laughing because your scalp got bigger and the toupee wouldn’t fit right.

Well I must go.

Love, Roseanne.


Dear Harold,

When you don’t write I think it is because you are angry. And if you are not then you should say so.

I liked the camping trip although it upset me that you forgot the tent poles and that the branches poked a hole in the side. Telling me the warranty would cover the damage after it started to rain did not make me feel better.

I have always said you were different, Harold, and you are.

All the best,



Dear Harold,

It has been a long time since I have written, I know, but I have my reasons. Like I told you when I drove you that extra 100 miles to the airport because you could get a cheaper flight from there, that about did me in.

I’ve come to feel you’re taking advantage of me. Now it was nice of you to give me the canned ham at the airport and all, but as I told you before it’s against  my religion.

Sometimes it seems you don’t listen to a thing I say. I’m going to a doctor here, well a counselor, and she says every person in the world, how many ever that is, has a different way of looking at things. But I don’t think you understand that because thinking back I recall that when I say something mostly you say ‘ah ha’ and then keep on as if I said nothing. Which really is not the way it is supposed to be.

Thank you for the fruitcake. But, Harold, if you send presents you ought to examine the package. I found a note in it from your Aunt Mildred written three years ago saying Merry Christmas.

I’ve concluded that you are so different as to be weird, something some of my friends have said for a long time.

The truth is I am fed up. So goodbye.


PS: I loved you




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"Obsession" is in Torrid Literature Journal XII


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