Dear J: I love you more than my own life. I think that’s all that really needs to be said. Love, your mom.
Dear D: Maya Angelou says it better than I can –
3. Dear G: I want you to be happy. But you’re never going to be happy if you don’t work on yourself first. Get it together. Life is too short. 4. Dear K: I know she’s your heart, and I will give my everything to love her and protect her when you aren’t around. I know this upcoming transition won’t be easy for you. Please understand that it was/is never my intention to make you feel bad. I know you never wanted this, and yet here we are. I’d like to start fresh, if that’s possible. I appreciate you and I want you to be happy. 5. Dear S: I wish it had been you instead.
I don’t know if you’ll read this or not, or if you even know this blog exists, and I honestly don’t want to know. I just need to say that despite all that has been, and all that may come, I love you. I know it probably doesn’t feel that way sometimes, and I’m sorry I’m too fucked up to fix that about myself, but it’s true just the same.
Sometimes I think about that Thanksgiving in 97, when I came home from college and worked at that shitty German restaurant with Katie. You guys had Thanksgiving dinner without me, and by the time I got home I was exhausted. Who knew so many old people liked eating out on Thanksgiving? Anyway, everyone else was in bed, but you waited up for me. I immediately threw myself on the couch, and within a few minutes you had appeared with a plate of food. Then you sat with me and we watched a movie.
Sometimes the smallest gestures make the biggest impact. Your gesture meant so very much and the selflessness and genuine sweetness behind it nearly broke my heart. You were such a sweet boy. It always sort of amazed me. How does something so sweet and pure develop out of a pile of shit? How did it never break your spirit? Or did I maybe just not see it because I was fighting my own demons? I’m sorry if I failed you.
I miss you, and I love you. I just wanted you to know.