Dear Patrick
Letter Fifty-Three
June 26, 2014
Dear Lana,
I thought I’d use this time to tell you about how everything’s been since you got kidnapped. Me and Toews are so much closer than we used to be- if that’s possible. I don’t know but he’s just been that boulder that keeps you stable, you know? Like what you were to me but you weren’t around so he took your place. Man baby I miss you so much. The doctors said that me sitting by you 24/7 wasn’t going to make you get better any faster. I told him to fuck off. But then Jon stared at me and made me apologize. When Tazer left, though, I told him I didn’t mean it. I also got a new doctor. I kept overthinking it and got scared that I’d pissed him and that he was going to kill you off. See what happens when I don’t talk to you for this long? I start thinking weird-ass shit like that. Anyways, I’ve actually dropped like 10 pounds since I stepped off that airplane. I just don’t seem to have an appetite. I don’t eat unless Tazer brings food and shoves it down my throat (not literally). Kind of sounds like the way my mom would do it. Speaking of which, my mother has joined the list of parents who are unavailable to turn to. She didn’t pass, though. She’s just out traveling the world to ‘see what life will bring her’. I miss her. I miss you. Wake up. Yesterday Toews convinced me to go down to the rink and skate off all the anxiety and the pressure and what not. I couldn’t even tie my own laces, baby. I’m so happy that you’re finally awake. I’ve been reading all those letters that you wrote to me that time when your dad kidnapped you. I also found the house that you were in- don’t ask how, I won’t tell you. I explored it. What a place it is. I would love to go back and look at the vintage and authentic stuff he has in there- at all the autographed Elvis and Babe Ruth. Too bad I burned it down to the ground. It was so big that when I drove like 26 miles down, I could see the smoke in the rearview mirror. I hope you don’t get mad. You will. But I can’t wait. I can’t wait until you’re angry at me because that means you’re up and alive and feeling good enough to feel emotions. You’re going to be better, I know. There are some things in life that you just know. Me kissing you again is one of them. Toews being better at hockey is another.
Toews the faggot wrote that and in pen so that I couldn’t erase it. I hope you’re happy that he’s picking on me now for writing letters. It’s okay though. I’ll take humiliation for you. I won’t take this silence from you anymore, babe. So come on. I have a surprise for you anyway and you know how bad I suck at keeping secrets.
Patrick
P.S. I swear you look hot in a coma, too. My man parts can't wait anymore.
Dear Lana,
I thought I’d use this time to tell you about how everything’s been since you got kidnapped. Me and Toews are so much closer than we used to be- if that’s possible. I don’t know but he’s just been that boulder that keeps you stable, you know? Like what you were to me but you weren’t around so he took your place. Man baby I miss you so much. The doctors said that me sitting by you 24/7 wasn’t going to make you get better any faster. I told him to fuck off. But then Jon stared at me and made me apologize. When Tazer left, though, I told him I didn’t mean it. I also got a new doctor. I kept overthinking it and got scared that I’d pissed him and that he was going to kill you off. See what happens when I don’t talk to you for this long? I start thinking weird-ass shit like that. Anyways, I’ve actually dropped like 10 pounds since I stepped off that airplane. I just don’t seem to have an appetite. I don’t eat unless Tazer brings food and shoves it down my throat (not literally). Kind of sounds like the way my mom would do it. Speaking of which, my mother has joined the list of parents who are unavailable to turn to. She didn’t pass, though. She’s just out traveling the world to ‘see what life will bring her’. I miss her. I miss you. Wake up. Yesterday Toews convinced me to go down to the rink and skate off all the anxiety and the pressure and what not. I couldn’t even tie my own laces, baby. I’m so happy that you’re finally awake. I’ve been reading all those letters that you wrote to me that time when your dad kidnapped you. I also found the house that you were in- don’t ask how, I won’t tell you. I explored it. What a place it is. I would love to go back and look at the vintage and authentic stuff he has in there- at all the autographed Elvis and Babe Ruth. Too bad I burned it down to the ground. It was so big that when I drove like 26 miles down, I could see the smoke in the rearview mirror. I hope you don’t get mad. You will. But I can’t wait. I can’t wait until you’re angry at me because that means you’re up and alive and feeling good enough to feel emotions. You’re going to be better, I know. There are some things in life that you just know. Me kissing you again is one of them. Toews being better at hockey is another.
Toews the faggot wrote that and in pen so that I couldn’t erase it. I hope you’re happy that he’s picking on me now for writing letters. It’s okay though. I’ll take humiliation for you. I won’t take this silence from you anymore, babe. So come on. I have a surprise for you anyway and you know how bad I suck at keeping secrets.
Patrick
P.S. I swear you look hot in a coma, too. My man parts can't wait anymore.
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2/12/15