Letter to Lena

San Francisco - October - 1986

Lena,

I still hear the rhythm of your fingers on the keyboard, rapid and electric. Like you were sending out some secret message into the world that no one else could decode. You had a way of moving through the chaos, slipping between the cracks of reality with nothing but your screen and a few lines of code. When i watched you in your bedroom, I could almost feel the pulse of your world through my skin.

And then there was me, gliding around you, my skates catching the neon light of the rink, the rhythm of my body in a language I never needed to explain. The way you kept looking at me, every time I spun just out of your reach. I could see it in the way you studied me, like I was some secret to unravel, well I did have a lot of secrets.

That summer felt like an electric shock when you came into my life at Pier 39. That night at the skating rink where you pulled me close, your hands on my hips, the sound of the ‘Peter Gabriel’ singing: “In Your Eyes”, and the heat of your breath on my neck. The way your fingers traced along my curves, and mapped my body like you were getting ready to penetrate one of your illegal hacker systems.

And you whispered to me that you were in love with me.

The, that next moment when your lips met mine, and the whole room disappeared. The sound of the skate wheels, the popcorn machine, the games in the arcade, the music, it all faded. It was just us, your mouth claiming mine, with your sugar-pop sweet lips. You pulled me in harder, like you were trying to download all of my secrets into you, so that you could understand the world I lived in, and as we spun and spun around, the kids watching in joy and parents looking on in terror.

We both knew what was happening, but we didn’t know how to stop, and when security broke us up and i punched the mall cop and got arrested. I saw the pain in your eyes. I know you wanted to punch him too. I know you cared.

Then when the cops told you I was homeless, you looked at me differently. And I was mad at you for that, but I’m doing okay now, I found a place that’s a little more permanent, I even got a job. Then when I worked up the courage to face you, I found out you had moved, and the new people gave me your forwarding address.

I won’t lie to you again, I just needed you to know that I miss you. I miss the way you made me feel, like I was something more than just another lost girl in the crowd. You made me feel like I was the only one who mattered in that moment, like the world had stopped turning just for us. I know you felt it too.

I’ve thought about you every night since then. The way your hands moved, the way your lips felt on my skin, like you were imprinting on me. I still feel the heat of your touch when I skate. When the wind blows through my hair and I’m speeding down Folsom Street at midnight. You’re flying right beside me, urging me to push harder, to go faster.

The city’s gotten so damn big, and we are so small. But if you ever find yourself back here in the neighbourhood, and you feel like ditching your computer, watch for me on the streets at midnight near Folsom. I know you’ll be able to track me down using those special fingers of yours, and I’m not talking about using the Yellow Pages!

I just want another night like that with you if you dare, another chance to feel you, to taste those sugar-pop lips, to finally see if this could be something that could last. Maybe I’m crazy. But damn, I can’t stop thinking about you.

My roller skates will keep spinning till you’re back in my arms, and with all the heat of the night,

Sara