Letters to Nowhere(Kanesha Andrews) She sat down at her desk a wave of unhappiness and boredom washing over her. Determined to do something—anything—to help her cope, she reached for a writing pad and a pen with erasable ink. With a sigh, she began to write.


Dear Husband,

I know that you do not exist, but I thought I would introduce myself and write to you anyway.

My name Cassie Blake and I am your wife.

What can I tell you about myself?


I am thirty-nine years old, I live alone, unless you count the few collectible dolls and stuffed toy cat. I work in a small office, doing standard clerical work. It’s not exciting and doesn’t pay much, but at least it is something. I live in a decent extended stay hotel that isn’t too far away from where I work.

Sometimes I read, sometimes I write and listen to music. I do pray, although I don’t pray for much as there is not much that I ask for and not much that I would receive. I attend church every Sunday and I make it a habit to at least try and be grateful for what I have. Yet, it is not easy. Life is so hard and I am complex.

I hope that you are doing well. May God bless you.

Sincerely your wife,

Cassie Blake.


She read the letter, made a few corrections, then carefully tore it from the pad and placed it in a folder. Sliding the folder into her desk, she stood and walked over to the sofa. As she gazed out the window, tears fell—silent, inevitable, familiar.


II

A few days later, Cassie returned to her desk. She pulled out her writing pad and pen and began another letter.

Dear Husband,

The days are simple….I go to work, come home, maybe read and/or listen to music. I am still praying, but I just pray. As I said, I don’t ask for much as there is not much that I would receive. I am slowly accepting that I am too complex for anyone.


When I say that I am complex. There are things about me emotionally that not everyone is able to understand. Not only that, I don’t think like everyone else, be they Christian or not. I also have other shortcomings that make it hard for anyone to understand. I get tired of explaining myself to people, so I just retreat into myself. Honestly, I trust no one and probably won’t ever trust anyone.

I’ll write again soon.

Sincerely Your Wife,

Cassie Blake


She reviewed the letter, made her edits, and added it to the folder. After closing the desk drawer, she walked to the window. The sun was setting, painting the city in hues of gold and crimson. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she did nothing to stop them.


III

A week later, Cassie sat at her desk again. The writing pad and pen felt heavier in her hands.

Dear Husband,

Not much has changed. Life goes on….I continue to pray just mere prayers for others. I’ve stopped praying for myself. I’m getting to the point where I don’t have any faith in anything for myself. I am too broken, too much of a mess. What trust I do have, it is not much. I don’t tell this to my family. They have issues of their own. And the last thing I want is for them to focus on me.

I still try make it a habit to read something spiritual be it the bible or some form of devotional. Do I think that I am out of God’s reach? No, I don’t...but I feel that there’s nothing he can do with me. At least, that what I feel and what I see.

I will not ever be whatever it is that I meant to become.

I will continue to pray for others. I am getting used to being just what I am….a mess.

I will write again.

Sincerely Your Wife,

Cassie Blake.

She reread the letter, corrected it, and added it to the growing pile in the folder. Turning on the classical music station, she let the haunting strains of Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie No. 1 fill the room. Sitting on the sofa, she watched the sun dip below the horizon, her tears falling in rhythm with the melody.


IV

Two weeks later, Cassie found herself at her desk again, pen in hand.

Dear Husband,

As you can guess, nothing much has changed. But as I said before, probably nothing ever will for me. I don’t have much to look forward to. Just a lot of the same. I am still having a conversation with God, but I don’t have anything good to say about myself. I come across a lot of books, devotional books that tell of giving trust to God. To stop trying to control things.

Honestly, there is nothing that I can control. Maybe the way I react, but whether I react correctly or not, it’s always the same. It’s just life….I go through it. I am aware that bitterness is creeping up on me. Maybe I don’t want to be happy, maybe I don’t want what God wants to give me. Maybe I just want to just exist.

To just go through life….Just praying, just keeping to myself….just being me. Whatever is supposed to be wonderful about me. I think I lost that a long time ago. Do I want to reclaim it? Not really and as to the why….it’s because I cannot ever be whatever it is that I am meant to be.

Just so, you know….I know that you are just some figment of my imagination. You’ve taken on many faces. Faces that I modeled after other faces that are known to the world. Your personality is one that I imagined in my head. Mostly perfect, maybe with some flaws….but mostly perfect. Nothing about you is real. It’s why I am writing these letters and will continue to write these letters.

There is no such thing as the perfect person, no perfect match, no perfect anything. At least not in this life. I am just taking things as they come. I know that God is watching me as I write this and no doubt that he is sad.

But it is how I feel, deep down. It will be what it will be.

I accept that I am broken, that I don’t have a lot of trust and that I will not ever be whatever it is to be. Life will go on as it always does.

Sincerely Your wife,

Cassie Blake


This time, after placing the letter in the folder, Cassie remained at her desk. The tears came again, but they no longer startled her. They were her constant companion, as reliable as the setting sun. Her only reprieve came from brief moments with family, but even they couldn’t save her from herself. She’d write another letter soon. It would be the same as always, because this was her life—unchanging, unrelenting, and inescapable.

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