Love you to pieces,
Tara
To-est T-Murphs,
It is one thing that you were generous enough to dance with Chris. But, Tara . . . DO NOT TAKE THE RING BACK! Just be careful, Tar. You’ve come so far. Be careful and thoughtful here. And you know what? I don’t need to know everything about the “Chris of it all.” That’s your business, and I have full faith you will do right by you.
I love you.
Soup
To my Tony,
We are so close to opening night, Matt. My final curtain at South High! Wow. As our fearless leader, I will do last looks on our West Side playbills in a couple of days. Tara Maureen Murphy, Matt Bloom, and Joy Rebecca Bernstein above the title, just like you wanted it.
My new perfume is Escape. I know, seems random me tellin’ you that now, but you did ask back at the beginning of 1992 and I never did get around to tellin’ you. I changed to Escape so I could leave 1991 in the past . . . so I could ESCAPE it. I needed the fragrance as a daily reminder to move forward, Matt. And move forward I have. So have you. So have we all.
It was awesome sharin’ the dance floor with you, especially during “I’ve Had the Time of My Life.” Stef and I are still dying over our dance routine. But there was that moment when you were twirlin’ Stacey (her jean jacket looked so good over that skimpy yet sophisticated little dress of hers) and I caught your glance. And what a glance it was. Not sure I’ll ever forget that Hungarian-slash-Russian-eyed glance of a Freshman. But time has a funny way of helpin’ people forget, so one never does know.
If I was still someone who dwelled in what-could-have-beens I would be wondering what happened with the Matt and Tara that could’ve been more than friends. There was that moment, Matt . . . that moment in time when we were right there . . . But alas, now we are right here. In the now, not the then.
It’s admittedly a little hard for me to see you and Joy kissing backstage, especially since I’m Maria, but I guess you belong together just the way maybe Christopher and I belong together.
I will always appreciate our talk outside at the after party. And thank you again for lending me your paisley tux jacket (pretty sure I told you this, but when a boy gives a girl his flannel or his jacket it usually means there is love in his heart). It was so cold and so windy you woulda thought we were in Chicago (Stef’s soon-to-be new home). What’s up with the nights bein’ so friggin’ cold and windy these days? It’s June! Anyway . . . thanks for your jacket. It made one very frigid girl wicked warm—who knew your shoulders were THAT broad!
And Matt, I know you don’t agree with me considering accepting Christopher back, but he was profusely apologetic, and I know him . . . he meant it. Am I gonna be with him again? Who knows? And if I do get back together with him, will it be forever? Not sure, I can’t seem to find my crystal ball. Might I eventually end up with someone else who happens to be younger and multitalented? Perchance. I’m goin’ to University end of August, Matt. That’s just a fact. I know that, and I also know that right after graduation I am off to a cottage On Island. But that’s it. That’s all I know. The rest will reveal itself as it’s meant to.
Hey, maybe we can find a few minutes to go to Camel Lot one last time before I skip this town forever. You still don’t know why I call it that!
All my love,
Tara Maria
P.S. Sniff this note. When I’m long gone you can smell this college-ruled paper and . . . Escape . . .
Tara,
Hey, no problem about me lending you my tux jacket. It was really cold. And windy. When your hair got stuck to your lips I remembered you telling me about that time you were at the reservoir and that Timmy or Tommy guy pulled it off your lips. And that he then took you back to your house and dumped you. A real jerk, if you ask me. And that’s all I could think about when you were telling me Chris asked you to get back together with him . . . Why would you do that to yourself? I know he told you that he made a mistake and that his life has been “miserable and lonely” ever since he broke up with you, but Tara . . . I don’t know. I care about you and just want the best for you. Is he the best for you?
Anyway, yeah, I definitely want to go to Camel Lot with you so you’ll finally tell me why you call it that!! This has been like Waiting for Godot!! But let’s make sure to get over there before July 1st. That’s when I ship off to New York. Oh my god, I just realized I haven’t told you. This is so nuts. At Prom, Stacey and I got into this great conversation about life and the future and I told her how I already know I want to go to NYU no matter what. And she was like, “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” I was like, “Huh?” Anyway, long story wicked short . . . it turns out Stacey has an aunt and uncle who live in New York City . . . this place called the West Village on 12th Street and 8th Avenue, and they are this super artistic couple who met in acting school at NYU and fast-forward the VHS tape . . . they are now the heads of admissions at NY friggin’ U! What are the chances? So, Stacey (being the
