Letters to the dead (pt 1)


Hey Wes. I know we haven’t talked in a while. Michelle died and I just kind of disappeared as soon as I’d reappeared in your life… And I feel really badly for that. Especially now. I offered my condolences and stepped back, because I knew how appearance sensitive you were, and I knew that becoming close to you again after her death would appear off. And… I want to say sorry. I feel like I failed you, and I feel like I failed my own nature. I’ve never been one to worry about they way I look to other people, especially when it comes to doing what’s right, and I let image dictate action, while knowing the risk. I knew, from the moment I’d heard of Michelle’s passing (and I learned of it the next day) that you might do this, and I still stayed away. I bawled, and cried, and walked the city streets until 5 am with worry for you, and still I didn’t call. I saw your old habit from when you were hurting when we were kids resurface, vacillating between reaching out and becoming reclusive & running away, and still I did nothing. I recognized the problem, was actively afraid of this outcome… And still I did nothing. For sake of appearances. and I feel ashamed for that. Because no matter how brave you seemed to me when we kids, I know that I’M the brave one, because I was always true to my own nature, regardless of the opinions of other people. I veered from that, out of respect for your own sensitivity to the subject, and now I’m beating myself up for it… And you know what? I hate you a little for that, now. And that makes me sad.

I’d already gotten past the resentment I had from when we were kids. I’d come to terms with the fact that I loved you as hard as I did, because I saw in you something so clearly that I always wanted for myself. You were joyous and free while I was dour & worrisome. I actually tried to emulate your lack of regard & your abandon. You were a pinwheel without a pin, a whirling dervish of color, whipping through the breeze & I thought it was beautiful. I never understood until later the desperation that drove that flurry of motion. What always kept you running, while I steadfastly have always refused to budge? You’ve been running from yourself your whole damn life, and you finally caught up. I’ve been hiding from me for mine, and I finally woke up. I’d like to say I’ll see you on the other side, but I don’t believe in that claptrap. Which is why I’ve got to stay right here and fix things on this front. No more hiding, no more wishing I knew how to run. No more giving up before the fight. I’ve got someone right here worth fighting for, and her name is ME.

This isn’t the last time I’ll write for you, but you’re already passed the point of listening. You can’t fix dead. But you can fix life. You just have to learn to live with it.


About Keats

Oh I'm sassy and I'm sexy, So silly sweet-and-sour Delightfully disastrous And deliciously dour I'm flippantly foolish, Filled I am with fear Can't concentrate completely, and my conduct isn't clear But to bravely be my best I Bring bravado back, BEHOLD!

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