Dear John
A Short Letter for John
By Maryanne Peters
Dear John,
When I first sat down to write this letter, I wanted to accuse you. I can always go back and make changes, and I have, but I wanted you to know how much you have confused and upset me. I mean that you have turned my life upside down.
Did you ever give any thought to my feelings?
I could have had a normal life. I could have a been a man. I could have had a family. Now I never can. Now I am just yours. Something for your amusement.
I blame my mother too. How could she go along with you? How could she do your bidding the way she did? How could she do this to her son?
She said that she liked my hair long, my skin smooth. But it was you all along. You wanted me to look like this. My mother was your willing accomplice, because she had “always wanted a daughter”.
Just like you keep saying: “I’ve always wanted a girl like you”. Neither of you had any regard for what I wanted. I could have wanted a girl to love, just like you – just like any other guy . Now even if I did, I could never make love to her.
You can’t make changes like you did to me without expecting lasting damage … permanent injury.
Female hormones are powerful drugs. You know what my chest looks like now. Two great big bouncing titties that flubber all over the place, even if I wear a sports bra. But you took that bra away, didn’t you? You insist that I wear bras like the one I am wearing – black and lacy, and wired to squeeze these tits together so that you can stick your nose between them.
Do men understand just how uncomfortable these things can get?
Those other pills are even worse. My God, not only can I not function as a man, but what is left is barely visible. My doctor tells me that I will never recover the use of my penis. That is what you have both done to me.
I know it is what you wanted all along. You say you like my body this way. It’s a sissy body. A girl in all respects except one.
But worst of all are the changes to my mind. Did you do that? Is it the hormones?
You know what I am talking about. It is the need. I need you.
I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to feel your breath on my face, your hands running through my long curls, your tongue licking my swollen nipples.
This is what you have made me. A man-lover. A you-lover.
I just live waiting for your call. I long to hear those words: “Babe, I’ll be over in an hour … be ready”.
And then what do I do? Do I say: “Fuck you, you monster”. No. I just get all excited. I rush to bathe, wash and curl my hair, shave the parts you like smooth, perfume and talc, makeup, underwear, a peignoir robe.
This is what you have made me. I am wearing it now.
You haven’t called, but here I sit waiting to hear your key in the door.
You bastard. I want your tongue in my mouth. I want your strong arms gripping my wasted ones. I want your cock inside me. I want to feel those strokes, and feel the gushing semen in me.
That is who I am now. Your thing.
Why don’t you call? Why don’t you come around?
I live for you now.
John? Dear, dear, John.
…
© Maryanne Peters
Author's Note: In comments on "Confronting" we have been discussing authors' POVs and I would have described this as being told in the second person, in particular for any of the Johns out there who read the message contained. I have called the breaking the third wall "Dear Reader" type writing as just a device within a first or third person POV because the reader is never fully engaged. But I am open to correction ... Eric?
Maryanne
Comments
First person
This is first person, there is an actual character telling the story and referring to themself as I.
Second person would be a story addressed to "you" by an unaccounted for narrator who never enters the action or is referred to in the story.
Similar to third person where the narrator is not identified and is not part of the action. Sometimes a third person narrative will briefly have a first person presence wherein the author directly addresses the reader. This used to be commonly done in pulp writing of "true adventure" stories and the like.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
Second Person can be very tricky...
The most notorious use of Second Person was Jay McInerny's "Bright Lights, Big City." Never a fan...of the novel or the person. I was in college in NY when that whole Literary Brat Pack thing was happening. The remarkable thing about his use of Second Person (which George Plimpton at Paris Review immediately glommed onto) was the narrator was addressing himself! So the narrator both recounts the exploits of the main character and is the main character. So...what we have here is (a failure to communicate? No, wrong movie) first person disguised as second person. Apparently McInerney came up with the idea when he came home eight sheets to the wind after a long night of hard partying and a voice in his head scolded, "You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning.” Such is the muse of literary fame. If only that had occurred to me after a whirlwind night at The Saint.
Sammy
Much Better Explanation...
...than mine in the comments to the other story. Thanks for clarifying it for me.
Eric
first person, second person?
I can understand why Maryanne asks the question. The story's character is almost schizophrenic merging between the male and female identities but finally settling on a female one. Of course, either way its still first person as I moves from he to become she.
I liked the story but it does make me feel sad for the lost boy who is obviously there in the background
Over-analysis
Hey everybody! Enough of the Cambridge School of critical analysis already! How did this piece make you feel?
MP