You had a killer haircut and a piercing way of asking me questions. They told me you have your own thing going on elsewhere, and that is totally cool. But, I miss you. I will never forget how you discovered what makes me act this way. Without you I would still be slumped in the corner, raving—and it was never a party. How did you know? Were you that gifted? You had a touch, a vocal and emotional way of peering within me while I planted a row of fake smiles across my arid face. You rescued me and I have to say that I would be dead if you had not. You should have stayed.
I have nothing but affectionate sentiment and exceptional praise for your care. Like always, I wish that society did not forbid our friendship, though it had to end. I want you to know that I am still approaching stability and could really use a push. There are no more pushers, just a few helping me express my turmoil and overcome it. You helped hold my relationship with that boy together just a bit longer, and I am grateful, though it got much, much worse. I hope this reaches you at a time when you can appreciate bitter introspection, you genius. Do you still love to cook? Are you still meditating?