#harmontask

‘ello sunshine boy! am writing this in the back of a club. kinda in a hurry but really gotta lot to say, yeah? met a guy this morning chasing his wife? i’m a detective now? casablanca? okay never seen that but an old timey movie detective movie is my life right now. she’s a stripper and they got in a fight but he is going to sing sam smith at the club and hopes she will forgive him? but she’s not at the usual club she’s at the rhino in the next town over and i’m a little drunk and my phone is missing but everything is okay.

sorry bad handwiting, cab is bumpy but he is practicing and is mad because i keep trying to sing Annie Are You Okay? by michael jackson. anyway i saw a thing that reminded me of you. don’t remember what it was but i just miss you? it’s only been a day though, maybe i am turning into a sloth wih how cling i am.

anyway, you’re one of my greatest friends i think. i’m glad we met and didn’t just not be friends because life would’ve been shit. plus i wouldn’t have gotten that great christmas gift. how lame, right? you’re honestly so smart okay am back. mr blanca got mad because i tried to tell him about the time you were going to fight the guy with the cactus tie and he said he didn’t care but his loss because he doesn’t know how adventerous you are? and how you’re so selfless when it comes to people you care about. plus you’re one of the faces i don’t mind waking up to because you’re always up for a good time even though your feet are cold as shit, tbh after this case i’m gonna take you to jail. but maybe not because i really want to paint napoleon’s suit on you for my history series for history month. is there a history month? fuck i hope so.

anyway, gnna hand this to the bald man. ope he sends it in the letter box oR why are you at the rhino. 

sorry i dipped my finger in midori to watercolor trees on the evelope. didnt go as planned.

            okay here goes.

in all honestly, i don’t remember you at all. i’m sure you had an effect on me once but.. it’s like i’m trying to grasp on to water. i just can’t remember what you meant to me or what made me want to stay for so long.

a part of me wants to remember so bad, to go back in time and go back to the life we share but i just have so much more to live for now. there are people here that i care about in a way that i never would have considered all those years ago and i’m so happy? i feel so bad for not missing you anymore. i hope you’ve gotten married by now, i know you’ve wanted someone to be there for you like i never was.

well this is depressing. i’m not going to send it. i’ll burn and mix the ashes with beeswax and send you a coaster.

no love, but a fistful of memories,

boi, i know i left to go find myself and a wife but i have made a lotta mistakies.

anyway, i’ve found someone v. interesting. maybe something will happen between them and myself but it’s a tough call. boston and cora are great though, cora moreso than boston. but i think you would like him? he looks like your type forreal forreal, but also you said that you were passed the shallow so maybe it wouldn’t be best for you two to hook up? i’ll send you shirtless snaps and you can determine for yourself.

i hope you are taking good care of yourself. don’t die i miss you!! hope to see you this summer!

happy anniversary stop most reluctantly i am unable to visit you today because the albanians may be waiting stop i hope you’re site is pristine as i left it or the us government will have a second reckoning awaiting them stop unfortunately i will be absent until your birthday in october which i have already been cleared for stop i’ve had this done on telegram because i know its your favorite stop

good afternoon my dear, i hope this gets to you because i am just writing your address in the corner and hope it gets back to you because there’s not stamp!

i hope you’re having a great day, this is just a little reminder that i love you and that you make my life just a little bit better. when you get this, we should go out because im probably just slumped over making paper from old print and it's rewarding but fuck it takes forever. also i need someone to watch dracula with??? hope you're down!

all the love x.

This feels silly, and I know I can tell you anything, any time, but... I just don’t know how to say it in person, Q. It’d be weird to just come out and say it in an emotional burst if we were hangin’ out though, so I guess this is as good as anything. Thank you. I mean that. For everything. Since we were kids in the summer time, you have always been there for me, near or far, and I’ll never be able to tell you how much that means to me. I know, I know, that’s what best friends are for, whatever, but I just need you to know how much it means to me. You mean more to me than you could possibly ever understand, and I hope you know I’d do anything for you. Thank you for being you.

With love, 

The order was lifted, you know. Of course you do. You were there, with him, in court. He told me all about it. How you two reconciled, how you promised you’d keep a safe distance, get clean, and really try to be a mother to me and Rory when you could -- but he never heard from you again. Neither did we. I was okay with it, frankly. Dad was barely around anyway -- between the two of you, there wasn’t enough to make even a whole parent for completely different reasons; you were you, and Dad is and always has been a workaholic. I raised Rory, and I raised me. I’ve made peace with it. You both suck. Whatever, you know? Whatever.

Except not really, mom. I don’t know what possessed me to look you up, I guess mother’s day got me thinking of you... where you’ve been, if you’re even alive after all these years. I haven’t even seen you since I was ten. That’s fourteen years. I expected to at most find a facebook page that you never update -- but you know what I actually found? Your blog. You know, the one where you document your recovery from addiction, your new love, engagement, finally, the posts about the wedding... the new kids. Kids, mom. Those are my half siblings and I didn’t know about them. Was I ever going to?

I didn’t expect you to be a mother to me when the order was lifted, but I expected you to try, like you always did. Is it because you couldn’t look me in the eye if ya did? Is that why, mom? Can’t say I blame you, after everything that happened between us. Did I mention that I’m a grown ass man and I can’t even think about swimming without having to reach for my Xanax? You did that. You also ruined every one of my birthdays with your drunken bullshit that I don’t even celebrate it anymore -- or the holiday itself. So, I get why you wouldn’t want to face me. What I don’t get is how easy it was for you to get married, have three other kids, and run off into the sunset.

So, no, not whatever. I hope and I pray to every benevolent God out there that those kids don’t go through what I did, mom. I hope you spend every second you can with them and I hope you never fall off the wagon. I mean it, I do, but... God, I’m so fucking tired, mommy. It’s not fair. You don’t get to move on. It’s not fair. I don’t get to, so why do you get to? This letter is the most I’ve opened up to anyone in years, and you don’t deserve it. I’m sitting here alone on mother’s day, bottle in my hand, tear stained cheeks, and I have work in the morning.

I’m twenty four years old, but I still feel like I’m just a kid. I am, honestly. I never grew out of that fucked up phase where I stubbornly hide everything I’m feeling and come out strong -- who was it that taught me that again, mom? To suck it right the fuck in, and move on? I was a kid when you taught me that! How is that supposed to be healthy? Is it healthy that I’m fully aware of the fact that I do it, but I can’t stop doing it? That it’s ingrained in me? I’m never going to be able to have a normal relationship, mom. Never. In the end, at least I can tell you this. Hey, maybe I have a limit on how many times I can do this shit, and from now on I just need to write you a pissed off letter in a drunken haze every fourteen years! Who’da thunk it. 

I guess that’s all. I don’t recommend writing back, because I don’t like to read. If you want to talk to me after, come see me. I dare you to face me, mom. You owe me at least that. I’ll write my address on the back.