Friday, August 9, 2013

Dear Patrick,

It's only been about a week since you left home. Your mom misses you like crazy. I wish you'd call her and just tell her you're okay. She's worried sick. Patrick, your dad's sorry. He is, he really is. The things he said, the things he did. You got to understand, Pat, he's your father. He wants the best for you, I can swear by it, but he has a sucky way of showing it. Come on, Patty. But if you don't want to talk about that or talk to me about that, it's okay. I understand, I get it. But just talk to me. About something, anything. I swear I'll listen, I promise. You know I've always kept my promises. Remember that one time I told you I'd get you a sub for lunch in sophomore year but I forgot? Remember how when you got home and opened the door to your room, the sub was right there? It's because I told myself a long time ago that I won't ever break a promise I make you. It's the same thing now, okay? I'm really worried about you Pat, it's driving me crazy not to walk around everywhere. You can talk to me, I won't say anything to your dad if you don't want me to. You can trust me, you know. You trusted me enough to give me your address, please trust me enough to talk to me. I'm worried sick about you, buddy. Talk to me.

Love,
Lana

P.S. I haven't applied for college yet, I'm waiting for my best friend to come home so we can do it together like you promised.