Dear Patrick
Letter Thirteen
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Dear Patrick,
You surprised me the other day with a visit. It was about time. I thought you'd get it sooner or later that you can't solve this through paper and ink. So when I saw your Benz pull up into the driveway, I felt so relieved. You have no idea how hard it was for me to ignore you all those weeks. I wrote you, too- I just never sent them. I knew I wouldn't forgive myself for letting you off the hook so easily. But you're my best friend, I thought as I saw the car door opening, I have to let you off the hook. But then I realized you weren't here to solve anything. And I realized that when the passenger door opened and out walked without a doubt the most slutty dressed girl I've ever seen in my entire life. I know I'm not the most modest person around Patrick, but I thought you hated that in a girl. I got a little mad at you right there but I shut up. You didn't drive all this way for me to be a little baby. But then I realized, you didn't drive all this way to make amends either. And then I realized as you were walking up the steps to my house that you and your "girl" had something in common- a diamond ring on the third finger of your right hand. I thought I was hallucinating, Pat. You bastard. You've been gone for no more than two months- there is absolutely no way in fu-. But you interrupted my thoughts, Patrick, with your obnoxious knocking (which I, by the way, missed so much). I opened the door for you Patrick because I wanted to be mature about this. Pat, you didn't even step into my house, you just stood in the doorway staring at me, like you'd seen a ghost- the same face you made when we got off the Dragster for the first time like four years ago. I don't know why but you seemed angry. I saw your eyebrows twitch Pat and I know what that means, Pat. I think you forgot I know you. I think you keep forgetting that we grew up together. I think you think I don't remember that you only twitch your eyebrows when you bite your tongue. I'd give the world to know which words you kept inside. I'd give my soul to know why you chose to spit out the words you did instead. There were exactly ten words, Pat, I still remember them. You said, "This is my girl, take her or leave us both." Slamming the door in your face was an inappropriate response. So allow me to correct myself "best friend", fuck you.
Lana
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving, thanks for forgetting to invite me to our traditional dinner at Jody's Grill.
Dear Patrick,
You surprised me the other day with a visit. It was about time. I thought you'd get it sooner or later that you can't solve this through paper and ink. So when I saw your Benz pull up into the driveway, I felt so relieved. You have no idea how hard it was for me to ignore you all those weeks. I wrote you, too- I just never sent them. I knew I wouldn't forgive myself for letting you off the hook so easily. But you're my best friend, I thought as I saw the car door opening, I have to let you off the hook. But then I realized you weren't here to solve anything. And I realized that when the passenger door opened and out walked without a doubt the most slutty dressed girl I've ever seen in my entire life. I know I'm not the most modest person around Patrick, but I thought you hated that in a girl. I got a little mad at you right there but I shut up. You didn't drive all this way for me to be a little baby. But then I realized, you didn't drive all this way to make amends either. And then I realized as you were walking up the steps to my house that you and your "girl" had something in common- a diamond ring on the third finger of your right hand. I thought I was hallucinating, Pat. You bastard. You've been gone for no more than two months- there is absolutely no way in fu-. But you interrupted my thoughts, Patrick, with your obnoxious knocking (which I, by the way, missed so much). I opened the door for you Patrick because I wanted to be mature about this. Pat, you didn't even step into my house, you just stood in the doorway staring at me, like you'd seen a ghost- the same face you made when we got off the Dragster for the first time like four years ago. I don't know why but you seemed angry. I saw your eyebrows twitch Pat and I know what that means, Pat. I think you forgot I know you. I think you keep forgetting that we grew up together. I think you think I don't remember that you only twitch your eyebrows when you bite your tongue. I'd give the world to know which words you kept inside. I'd give my soul to know why you chose to spit out the words you did instead. There were exactly ten words, Pat, I still remember them. You said, "This is my girl, take her or leave us both." Slamming the door in your face was an inappropriate response. So allow me to correct myself "best friend", fuck you.
Lana
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving, thanks for forgetting to invite me to our traditional dinner at Jody's Grill.
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