Dear Cheryl,
That day has come, my ship has sailed, and I have sunk. I write this letter to you in my living room, I'm wrapped in 4 blankets and its 75 degrees outside. But all I feel is chills as I look around this vacant space I call home for the time being. Some days I sit on my couch smoking cigarette after cigarette waiting for a sharp kick in the balls from boredom to wake me the fuck up and to bring me back to the reality I crave so much. I came here to get control over most of my vices and for the most part I've done so, except smoking. I'm sorry sis I know you hate smoking but cigarettes are so cheap here, they're practically giving them away and no one asks for id. Every time I get a new pack an old man named Daryl smokes a cigarette with me.
Every morning I wake up and walk outside to stare into nothing, the pastures have never been greener and the sky is the bluest I've ever seen it and at night you have to be blind not the see the sky full of stars and I still feel nothing. I came out here to get away from what I was afraid of but I think I've gone so far that I don't even remember what my fears were in the first place. My list of complaints will go on forever but it is for that reason, that I love this place.
Since I've come here I haven't written a word. The stack of notebooks I brought with me lay wordless on my cracked wooden floor collecting dust instead of my thoughts and as the thoughts pile up I see my notebooks and the words I should be writing, fading more and more into wasted opportunity a and bleak future as each day passes. I seek reason and meaning but all I'm finding is green grass and blue thoughts.
My physical ailments have gotten worse these days as well; my headaches have come hard and come often. Some nights I can’t even open my eyes. I have one as I write this but I’m starting to feel like it’s just the city streets scratching at my brain. I ran away from my problems on a bus out of the city and my problems took the next bus and somehow beat me to my final destination and had already made friends with death, guilt, and depression.
People will tell you when you get to be older and have to start dealing with real life issues that “everyone goes through them, you’ll get through it, everyone else does!” Well let me be the first to tell you, that they are full of shit. Everyone is different, some people deal with life changes by playing scrabble or doing Sudoku and some run away to a farm to sulk for awhile. Life can get really complicated, wait, scratch that life is always complicated. Whether it’s when your 5 and can’t figure which bathroom is the boys and which one is the girls or it’s when your 19, laying on a couch that feels like plywood with a ratty cloth cover over it, trying to give yourself 5 reasons why you shouldn’t go up to the roof and just happen, to you know, fall off.
The other night, as a matter a fact, I made my way onto that very roof in the middle of the night as I continue to battle insomnia as well. Sometimes I just feel like it is due to sleeping on plywood. As I sat on the roof smoking my last cigarette, I looked over the edge and what did I honestly feel at that moment? Thirst, my mouth went completely dry and I spit off the roof, wondering where my next drink would come from and that was when the rain came. It started pouring and hasn’t stopped since. Now, granted I didn’t drink any of the rain water, it made me realize that opportunities are everywhere Cheryl, it’s just a matter of finding them. It was those opportunities that made me get off that roof the other night and it’s those opportunities that give me hope. I don’t want you to think that what I just said is the answer to everything because it isn’t for you and probably isn’t for me either but in times like this, you’ll take anything as hope,
If there is one thing I could tell you, it is don’t be afraid to try anything. Dylan famously said “Don’t think Twice, It’s Alright.” Despite the fact that I take this quote completely out of context, I mean it, don’t think twice, it will always be alright.
It is true that I have left all friends and family behind, but honestly I left them behind months before I actually left. Mom and dad were getting sick of it all and I was getting sick of hearing it all the time. I’ll always love them but sometimes you run out of love to give, because you run out of love for yourself.
I unfortunately will end this with another quote. In Saving Private Ryan they constantly use the term FUBAR which stands for “Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition” and right now Cheryl, my life may be fucked up beyond recognition but not beyond repair.
Love,
Bobby
