Submarine ★★★★½

“Dear Jordana,
Thank you for letting me explore your perfect body. I could drink your blood. You are the only person that I would allow to be shrunken down to a microscopic size and swim inside me in a tiny submersible machine. We have lost our virginity, but it wasn't like losing anything. You’re too good for me. You’re too good for anyone. 
Sincerely, Oliver.”

ohhhh man this love letter monologue knocks the wind out of me every time. makes my ribs curl inwards and puncture my lungs clean through. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.

in 10th grade i lent this book to my boyfriend at the time, hoping he’d read it and write me a love letter even just a fraction as beautiful this one. five months later, he dumped me over the phone and returned my copy with a bittersweet break-up note tucked in the pages. it’s still thumb-tacked to my bedroom wall at my parent’s house. 

we got back together a few months later, right before he moved across the country to go to film school. i poured my heart into letters and it made a sick splattering sound when it hit the pages. we talked on the phone every other day, but i begged him to write to me. i begged him to send me something, anything tangible. he never did. i broke up with him when he came home for the summer. 

i don’t think i really have a point to this. no wait, i do. oliver says “i suppose it won’t matter when i’m 38, but i’m upset about it,” and that’s what i repeated to myself when i was drowning in the tempestuous throes of first love. i’m only 23 and he was right, it already doesn’t matter. i haven’t spoken with this guy in 6 years and i rarely think about him, except for when he cameos in my dreams or when i mine our past relationship as inspiration for lengthy letterboxd entries.

so, yeah, i guess my ultimate point is ....... write your girlfriend a love letter right fuckin now

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