To The Boy Who Leaves His Laundry In The Machine; I Love You

To my beloved,

 This letter may come as a surprise, for you are doubtlessly unaware of my existence. Waiting patiently by the dryers, I have yet to have the honor of your presence. But alas, I felt it was necessary to confess how I feel in the hopes of obtaining some morsel of your affection. It wasn’t as if I intended to fall in love with you when I walked into this laundry room. How was I to know the exhilarating fate that awaited me between those walls? 

It had been just a typical Sunday. The frigid air outside made a day amongst warm laundry sound heavenly. After my garments had finished their wash, the daunting search for a dryer ensued. Alas, all were full! One, however, had run its course and laid dormant awaiting for removal. While typically, I would never deign to be so impertinent, my dear, something compelled me to forget my girlish manners, and take this dryer for myself— something I have since surmised to be fate. As I opened the door, clothing tumbled out. “A fellow procrastinator,” I thought to myself. I reached to pick up the clothes when I noticed, amongst the bunch, a t-shirt, your t-shirt, featuring a portrait of Doja Cat.

This wouldn’t have piqued my interest if it hadn’t been for my recent appreciation of Doja’s work. “A music fan as well,” I thought, “we seem to have a lot in common.” While I tried to carry on about my business, I couldn’t help but peruse the remaining clothes. Be not afraid, dear reader! I performed no lewd transgressions, but only looked as an attempt to ascertain more about you! A Wool Fisherman’s Sweater revealed your warmth; a pair of funky socks, your humor; a Planned Parenthood t-shirt, that you cared. I could tell from the holes in your socks you were an adventurer, the type to take me on trips to places like Machu Picchu or Indonesia. I became enthralled, not even noticing the buzz of the machine, learning about you made time stand still. A whole hour had gone by, and yet you had not returned. While I anguished over your absence, there was something about your aloofness that intrigued me. I finally resigned myself to leave without learning more about you than that which I had garnered from your wash.

While I pondered upon the mysterious person behind those garments, I did not obsess over such matters. Naturally, I looked for the familiar clothing around the dorm and on campus in the hopes of revealing your true identity, but alas, I was not so lucky. It was not until my next laundry day that our paths crossed again. After running my first load through the washer, I was again faced with a dryer dilemma. Once more, I did not hesitate to take a complete but finished dryer for myself. I grabbed the clothes from inside and was immediately overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity. There was that same Doja Cat t-shirt.It was you again. Twice in a row, imagine my luck. I must admit, I was charmed by your cavalierness. You were a carefree spirit, one that did not conform to the wretched trappings of society, but instead marched to the beat of your own drum. You did not need to set a timer for your clothes—no! You didn’t let your life revolve around a machine. I could picture us galavanting across the French countryside, escaping all our responsibilities, without a care in the world. Free from the toils of laundry machines and detergent, we’d spend our days drawing portraits of one another and delicately embracing in the incandescent sunshine. But alas, you never came, and I was forced to retreat once more, alone.

Following our initial two encounters, I counted the days until I could make my way to the laundry room again in the hopes of catching your presence. I wore two, sometimes three outfits a day, just to find an excuse to see you again—maybe even in person this time. I knew our love would not be approved of. A man of your station, with a lowly girl of no prospects like me, but I had to have hope. When the awaited day finally arrived and my hamper was full again, I rushed to the machines. Following an agonizing wash cycle, I eagerly opened that dryer to reveal—pure ecstacy! What luck would have it, it was you again, my love! You in all your wondrous glory!  I dared not even move your clothes now; they had become so precious to me. The artifacts of our love remained intact: the Doja Cat t-shirt, the wool sweater, the socks, even the Scooby-Doo Boxers! But again, hours went by, and you were still nowhere to be found. After the sixth hour passed, I am ashamed to admit, I put my own wet clothes in with yours and dried them together in the hopes of forming an intimate bond between us. I feel ashamed even admitting it. Even so, the impropriety of my actions inspired a rapture in me, I had yet to experience.

In all honesty, beloved, I do not know if I can continue this way. I yearn for more. I even stole one of your funky socks from our last liaison just to feel closer to you. Please do not force me to debase myself like this any longer! Fulfill my wishes, my dearest, and you shall never want for love again! Until that blessed day, I shall strive to get by on the crumbs you leave me — with the hope that in time I will receive my due. 

Hopelessly Devoted,

Yours

– LE ’25