An Open Letter to Ponyboy Curtis

Dear Ponyboy,

    It’s been a while hasn’t it?  I’m sorry about that.  I promise I’ve never stopped thinking about you.  I guess no book really moves you like your first.  You were my first.  You were the first to make me cry for hours.  The first to stay in my mind for months after I was done reading.  The first to make me really want to write.  You dig, right?  You understand about sunsets, so I’m sure you can get this too.

    We’ve been through a lot together.  Remember the time I put blistex in my hair because I thought it would look like hair grease?  It took ages to wash it all out.  I read Gone with the Wind for you.  I started reading The Carpetbaggers for you.  (I wasn’t old enough to read it either.)  

    In seventh grade, when I had no friends, I told people my best friend’s name was Curtis and that he went to a different school.  I knew they’d never believe me if I said your name was Ponyboy.  

    You’re the reason I don’t like bologna.  You’re the reason I still wear boots or tennis shoes everywhere.  You were the reason I bought my first jean jacket.  I never took up smoking for you.  But I did used to put cinnamon sticks in my mouth and pretend they were smokes.  

    After the first few times I stopped reading the book before the church burned down.  Who says nothing gold can stay?  It’s kind of funny isn’t it?  I’m twenty-eight and you’re still fourteen.  You used to be older than me.  I couldn’t wait to be the same age as you.  I thought fourteen was the age to be.  Then I thought maybe it was sixteen.  Or eighteen.  Or twenty-one.  

    I guess things can’t be the same between us as they were then.  I don’t know what I’d make of you if we met for the first time today.  But we didn’t.  We met a long time ago and for that I’m grateful.  You’ll always be my first.  Stay Gold Ponyboy.

Love always,