Dear D, I had to restart this. I don’t often fully restart projects but if there ever was a time it would be when writing directly to you. Previously I wrote about it being your birthday, how you had died in my eyes, shit like that. You know I think this will be the one letter I don’t send to the person I’m writing about. You don’t want to read my silly writing and my little letters from jail. I love how you belittle me. I came across a picture of us today. It was the first picture of us ever. Featured in the pic is us in a car, I’m flipping you off while you're in the seat in front of me flipping me off as well. I think its funny that our relationship is first documented by a picture like that. I guess it’s fitting that we hate each other in the end. I’m kidding, I’m not that melodramatic. Try as I might I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hate you. In the past I couldn’t hate you, in the present I can’t hate you, and if I were to guess in the future I won’t be able to. Why is that? Well in the past I was so enamored with you that I looked past any obvious fault you may have shown me. Occasionally I would get mad at you, but all it took was a little bit of attention from you to assuage my ire. Its funny, all I wanted from you was your attention. I wanted you to see me and to love me for who I am. I’ll get into that later though. Why can’t I hate you in the present? There’s a couple reasons I think. The first thing that comes to my mind is the fact that in one time I loved you. I loved you with such a passion that I almost ruined my life for you. I mean fuck man we talked about getting married. I moved into your house with your abusive parents and made it my home not because I wanted to be there, but because I wanted you. When they kicked us out I moved with you into your friends disgusting apartment because I wanted to be with you. I thought you wanted me just as bad. I know realize I was wrong. I once loved you in the way that you can’t get rid of. I can’t look at all your wrongs and say, “Oh shit well its fuck them now.” Although it is fuck you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you. Ten years down the line if we ran into each other and you smacked me in my face I would still ask if you wanted to get coffee and catch up. Kinda like that Mitski song you know. I don’t particularly like it. I would prefer apathy or anger, but I’m just left with love. I’ve wrestled with my own nature for years. I couldn’t be mad at my abusers from when I was a child, I can barely muster any anger against the people who raped me, and I can’t be mad at you. And I think that’s okay, its just who I am. Another reason I don’t think I can be mad at you is because I pity you. I see the same things in you that I had to deal with. I think you have a lot of growing up to do and pardon me for saying it but you’ll never do it smoking weed the way you do. I’m gonna piss off every stoner but hey dude that shit is just addictive as alcohol. Do you remember not being able to eat if you hadn’t smoked? Do you remember using weed as a way to stop your breakdowns? I fucking hate weed, but I smoked it with you. I thought it would make you like me more. I did a lot of stuff because I thought it would make you like me more. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I see how all of it lead you to making the choices you made. I don’t think you’re at the point where you can think the same of me. If you ever do and want to catch up, unfortunately I think I’ll be down. I think a lot of how you acted was purely reactionary, I don’t think you really thought through a lot of what happened. That’s okay though, not everything has to end out well. Let's take a breather. Do you remember the good times? When staying in all day to fuck and order Thai food on doordash was the best of times. I almost let myself rot with you for all eternity. We watched all my favorite shows together and now I struggle to watch them without thinking of you. Barry just finished and I haven’t watched the last few episodes yet. I’m saving them in case you want to finish it with me. That’s funny right. You know, there’s something I don’t think I ever told you. I guess I’m still not telling you because you won’t see this. Whatever. Anyway, when we used to hang out with you and your friends, back when I was getting to know everyone, I used to sit in the backseat and write suicide notes. I was so fucking depressed and I just wanted you to want me in the way I already wanted you. It was unhealthy. You were my favorite person. Not in the cute way, in the mentally ill way. I think you’ll always be one of my favorite people. If I’m lucky though that will change. So where does this all leave us? Well, I owe you about $1,800 and you owe me my Radiohead box set. Technically, my best friend owes you the money, but I’ve taken it upon myself to pay it back. When I asked you if I could show you my writing about you all I got back was a resounding “fuck no.” You seemed disgusted by the thought of it. It hurt a lot. But I won’t let it stop me. You asked me not to write about you, but you impacted me in a life changing way. How could I not? So, my final fuck you to you is this: I’m going to continue writing and making art having to do with you and how you affected me. And the shit’s gonna be poignant man. I understand you, I’m disappointed in you, and I pity you. Goodbye D.