Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Matteo
Dear Anya,
I’m not complaining, just rambling. I don’t know what to write, honestly.
I asked my dad what I should write in a letter and he looked at me like I had three heads.
He said I should just write what I would say if I were talking to you on the phone or in person.
But honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to say half the time before the words come out.
I hope you know that I’m thinking of you, even if some of my letters end up being chaotic messes.
It’s only been a day without talking to you on the phone or even just reading a text from you and I feel odd.
I don’t want to be sad, because I know you’re somewhere getting the help that you need.
But at the same time, I don’t want to be happy while you’re gone.
Oh, and don’t worry about me talking to my dad about you. I didn’t tell him where you were or anything. I think he might know, though. I think he’s been talking to your dad, and maybe they’re working on being friends? So, score one for us?
But yeah, I haven’t told anyone. Not even Jade.
I want it to be your choice if you say anything to anyone.
This is your journey, and I’m just along for the ride.
I decided to tell Jade and Ana that you’re doing some wellness yoga retreat thing with your aunt, and that’s why we can’t talk as much.
I hope you don’t mind? It seemed like a nice alternative to the truth.
And it’s not really a full-on lie. You told me you’d be doing some yoga and this program is definitely for your wellness.
I have so many questions to ask about how you’re settling in, but I don’t want to give you some kind of interrogation-filled letter. So, I’ll list a few and you only answer what you want to answer, okay?
How is the food? (I bet you knew I’d ask that, huh? I can’t help it, I’m a food-motivated man.)
Do you like your room?
Are you feeling okay?
Have you met a horse yet? I met one once. (I was six, and he tried to eat my hair. Scared the hell out of me.)
Is anyone bothering you? (I’ll fucking kill them get them away from you, if you need me to.)
Do you miss me as much as I miss you?
Are you feeling homesick?
I suppose I should finish up this letter so it isn’t too long. But I hope you’re having a good time. You’re so strong, and I believe in you. I know you’re going to make it through all sixty days and come out the other side feeling happier and healthier. Remember, sei una meraviglia, Anya.
P.S. Expect a ridiculous number of emails from me. I plan to send you all my little thoughts. Who’s going to stop me from using the emailing system like text messaging?
P.P.S. I’ve always wanted to write P.P.S. I laughed while doing it. Does that make me ridiculously immature?
Yours,
Matteo
Dear Matteo,
This isn’t the first time I’ve written a letter, but it’s the first one I’ve written in English. I used to write letters to my family in Russia when I was little. In little scribbles that were barely legible, I’m sure, but they always wrote back and sent little candies in the envelopes.
I’m replying to your letter before I reply to my father’s, so you know that you really are the first. It’s day six here, and they’ve just given me my mail.
I was a little upset that I wasn’t given anything right as it came, but I understand their method.
Settling in first was probably smart. If I received mail in the first day or two, I might have been tempted to go home to cure my homesickness.
I feel okay, a little out of place still, but not unsafe.
The staff is all very nice, and the patients have been too.
I haven’t met any horses yet, but I will soon.
The food is good, but I do miss Grigory’s cooking.
My room is small but private; I got to bring my own bedding so that’s nice.
It smells like home, or at least, my room.
I was a little homesick at first, but it gets better as time goes on.
I don’t think anyone is bothering me, but I’m still getting used to being around so many faces.
I was worried that I would feel uncomfortable with the men in the program, but all of them are very shy and quiet.
We’re all grouped together based on similar trauma, and no one has felt threatening in any way.
I miss you talking to you. So, I’m glad to receive your letters, even if they’re too long. And I’ll take as many emails as you can send me. I hope I have computer time soon. I can’t wait to see what six days of Matteo thoughts look like.
Thank you for your kind words, I hope that time goes by fast.
P.S. I don’t think it’s immature to find joy in silly things.
Yours,
Anya
Dear Anya,
I miss talking to you too. Hence all the emails. God, the mail service is slow, isn’t it? I started writing things down before I got your first letter, so I would remember them when your reply came.
I can’t imagine there was ever a time that your handwriting looked like scribbles. It’s so neat and flowy it almost looks like a computer wrote your letter to me. I’m tempted to frame it just for the calligraphy alone.
I’m glad you’re not too homesick, and hope by the time this letter gets to you, you’re even less so.
I’m glad the food is good, but I know exactly what you mean.
Sometimes even eating at Michelin star restaurants, I miss Martha’s cooking.
Nothing beats homemade cooking from someone who cares about you.
Speaking of food, it might be too soon to tell, but do you think you’ll return to your menu when you go home?
I never told you, but when I finally finalized your weekly meals, I tried to do it myself.
I like all of the options, so it was no hardship.
I definitely had larger portions than you would have, but it was good.
Honestly, the part I would struggle with in the future would be dessert.
I need more sweet treats than frozen yogurt, meraviglia.
Anyway, I wanted to know that I could stick to the menu if I came to visit for more than a couple days. That way we could eat together for every meal and have it be the same. I like variety but I’d like to share with you even more, I think.
But if we’re scrapping the menu, there’s other dishes I could introduce you to.
I’m no professional, but Martha’s taught me plenty in the kitchen.
I’ve already been commanded to make you her chicken parm.
When I told her it was your favorite, she was elated but also annoyed that a Russian man was making it for you.
She says no one makes Italian food like Italian women, but I’ll do well enough since she’s the one who taught me.
You’ve replied to a couple of my emails since I sent my first letter and I’m glad they haven’t started to annoy you yet.
I wish I could send you pictures of the twins, but know that I still talk to them about you while you can’t FaceTime them.
They’re as happy, healthy, and lovely as always, and I know they can’t wait to see you again.
Spero che tu faccia sogni d’oro, Anya.
Yours,
Matteo
Dear Matteo,
Horses are bigger than I thought. These ones are very well trained, though. No one’s hair has been eaten.
Speaking of eating, I don’t think I’ll have a strict meal plan anymore.
Tiffany has been encouraging me to plan a menu with Grigory each week of different things I’d like to have for those seven days.
That way I still don’t have to decide on the spot what to eat, there’s some structure that I’ll enjoy, but I also get more variety.
I don’t know what to say about you being willing to eat the same thing every week with me.
I can’t read that part of your letter without tearing up.
I don’t think you even realize how nice of a gesture that is.
But hopefully we have many years of trying different food ahead of us.
I can’t wait to have your/Martha’s chicken parm.
Also, I think I’ve made a friend. Her name is Rory, and she’s much braver than me. She talks to everyone and everyone seems to like her positive attitude. Very bad things happened to her not so long ago, and she hasn’t curled into herself.
Part of me is envious of her coping, and the other part of me knows she wouldn’t be here if she was okay.
Everyone here has different personalities and dispositions.
Some are more shy and solemn, some are depressed, some seem angry, and some use humor to hide behind pain.
I’m not sure where I fit amongst the bunch, but I also don’t feel out of place.
I think I might miss some of the aspects of being here when it’s time for me to go, but I also can’t wait to be home.
I know I shouldn’t miss my routines so much, but sometimes I do.
Dr. Tiffany says that I’m an introvert, and that not all my longing for home has to do with my trauma.
She says that I just like coziness, and that it isn’t wrong or bad to enjoy my home space.
We’re working on a balance for the future.
Leaving the house more, but not being afraid to stay in on the weekend if I want.
Recognizing that even a walk around the beach and then returning home after is still progress, and that I don’t need to make giant leaps to see progress.
She knows I’m getting impatient with myself, and she says that’s okay too.
You said the twins are well, how about the rest of your family? Have you been spending time with them? Dad has been writing to me, and his letters come faster since he’s so close. Aunt Irina, too. Her letters are nice. She’s so playful and funny, and I hope she never changes.
I don’t know what else to write today, but I’ve been enjoying your text-emails. My favorite were the three you sent about stubbing your toe. Some people may call that modern day poetry, you know?
Talk soon, thank you for writing.
Yours,
Anya
Dear Anya,