The Love Letter of Doom

    Some of my memoir posts have been a bit sad lately.  But life isn't always happy.  Everyone has ups and downs, things they need to overcome.  I'm glad those things happened in the past and not the present.
    Anyway, someone read my blog and felt so badly that they wrote me a love letter.  I guess depressing blogs are the best ways to get love letters.  In this case, I'm thankful because it brought out some hilarious events!
    I read it, giggled a bit and then paused.  Had I read the author's name correctly?  I suddenly paled. 
    Melynda (my buddy) has a brother WITH THAT EXACT SAME first and last name!
    Here's her blog:

    I shook a bit as I thought of that.  I'd received a very silly love letter--one that ended with "Cuddles of Love" because "Chris Cares"--but how could I ever tell Melynda it was from her brother?!  I thought about it for several hours.

    My feet practically wore a path in the carpet.  Steam came from my stressed ears.  I could just imagine her response, "But my brother's married!" she might say.
    Then it hit me.  He'd sent me a message through facebook.  We aren't friends, but maybe I could see his picture.  
    I opened my e-mail, bit my left nails as I clicked on his name.  Then his picture came up.  He DID NOT look like Melynda, and he wore an Obama shirt.  Those two factors alone made me wonder . . . since Melynda's pretty much a republican and I pictured her brother being the same race she is and everything.
    I finally decided to call.  "Melynda," I said.  "I got a love letter and it's from someone who has the same exact name as your brother."
    "Really?  First and last?"
    "Yep."
    "Cris or Shannon?"
    "Chris."
     "How does he spell it?"
    "C-h-r-i-s."
     "My brother hates it when people put an 'H' in his name."
    That made me laugh.  I dated a guy named Michael once.  He'd flip out if people called him Mike.  I mean, maybe it was a big deal.  Maybe he knew a jerk named Mike--and the kid used to steal his lunch money and give him swirlies--who knows. But people always say my name wrong and I'll respond to anything.
    "What does the letter say?" Melynda asked. 
     I giggled for a second.  "Are you sure you're ready for this?  It's pretty cliche.  I can't imagine how people date online."
    "I can handle it, Sunshine." She laughed.
    "Hi, pretty one," I read.  "I am certainly speechless . . . what manner of beauty bestowed on one person. You were created on God's resting day and you've captured my heart.  I couldn't resist but rather stopped by to say hi.  I believe we can move from here . . . Cuddles of love . . . Chris Cares."
    I thought about the letter.  We wouldn't be moving from anywhere, and I did not want to be "cuddled with love."  If that guy could only read my blog about mowing lawns!  So what--I'd written a few sad posts recently, that doesn't mean I'm a ball of need.  Plus, I'm a seamstress and all my crappy items come out on my "day of rest" cause I'm too damn tired to sew!   
    Melynda laughed.  "If I had any doubts, they're gone now.  My brother would never write a word like 'cuddles.'  He'd say something like 'I could put those lips to better use over here.'"
    I felt so much better.  "Good," I said, "because this guy isn't even the same race as you, and if he was supposed to be your full brother . . . well, I was really nervous to call."
    "Naw, we're good.  But if this ever happens again and it is a Cris with no 'H' . . ."
    That cracked the Hell out of me, how she'd referred to him as the guy with no "H."  That could lead to all sorts of crazy places.
    "Don't be afraid to call," she finished.
    "All right," I laughed.  "I think we're good to go."
     The whole thing was pretty funny.  I'd been super nervous, confessed to a friend, someone wanted to cuddle me with love and through it all I was simply glad of one thing . . . the letter wasn't from the man with no "H."