A letter to Billy - 3. Letter #3

Billy,

I am, once again sitting in my garage, thinking about you, and all the times we sat here, on this very couch, talking about everything and nothing. I am still sometimes really mad at you for leaving us like you did, but today, I am just sad. It is almost Christmas and I won't get to see the silly pajamas that Kim would have bought you this year. Or see Brad and you and your Dad sitting on the porch, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes in the freezing cold. But mostly, I am just sad that you are gone. I miss your smiling face, more than I can say, and I miss my friend.

There have been so many time these last five months that I have picked up my phone to call you. I've needed your sarcastic wit and no bullshit attitude to get my head right, and then I dial your number and remember. And fall apart a little bit, all over again. For the most part, I am past being mad at you, but I don't think I will ever stop being sad when I think about you. I have often wanted to call and talk to your Dad, but I am afraid that it would be painful for him to talk to me. After all, he and I got to know each other over Christmas at Kim's house in Lubbock, and it was such good week. I know this is depressing, and probably the kind of shit you would rag on me for, but I have to get this out somewhere, and the universe picked you to listen, I guess because nobody else seems to want the job.

Mick and I are about over with. We are just going through the motions these days, trying to hurt the other as much as possible before the end. At least, it seems that way most days. I am quitting the dope, hopefully for good this time, and he doesn't want to stop yet. Says he doesn't need to, and that his continued use should not affect my quitting. Of course, you know as well as I do that is a fantasy. In a lot of ways, I have known from the start rhat we would never make it, he and I. We are both too strong willed and unyielding to ever really have a chance. When this is all said and done, I don't think I want to be in a relationship again. I think I was meant to be alone. I seem to be attracted to men who either hurt me and say they love me or just tolerate me until someone better comes I along. But, of course, he makes it very difficult to leave. He controls the money, the car, and even took my key back. I've lived here nearly two years and I do not even have a house key.

I'm so fucking frustrated I could scream half the time. Of course there isn't really anybody around for me to bitch to anyway, so I at least have some fun with it. I walk around Wal-Mart and talk to myself. A lady asked me where my bluetooth headset was the other day, and literally dropped bread and ran from me when I told her that those things make the voices sound like a fax machine and I wasn't allowed to wear one. I have never laughed so hard in my life! I thought I was gonna piss on the floor. Might have been an improvement.

I guess the basic point of all of this, kiddo, is that I fucking miss you. I wish I had known you were hurting so much. I would have tried to help, and I probably would have fucked it all up, but I would have at least known. Sorry, I got off track there for a minute. I guess, without you here, it just seems like life is a little less bright, a little bit quieter, and a lot less fun. I don't know what to say to people when they want to talk about you yet. Mick still can't do it without crying. I haven't seen Connecticut Mi in weeks. We just don't seem to know what to say to each other. None of this is your fault, of course. You know how awkward I can be with people. I wish things had turned out differently. Anyway, kiddo, I gotta go.

I miss you, and I love you, and I guess I always will.

Love,

Jeremy