You’re an asshole. Don’t think that this letter back through time didn’t take some doing. I had to pay a guy in a back alley that stunk of Old Grandad. Do you know what the back of a 7-11 smells like? That’s okay, thanks to some bad decisions you’ll make in four years, you will.
I’m writing to let you know of some of your choices. Though the existentialist in me will wonder if I’m subverting your will by letting you in on this. Are your choices REALLY your own? I’m not going to tell you not to read this note, should it find you somehow. I’m not Doc Brown, and this isn’t Back to the Future, read this letter and absorb it. Because, it’s important.
First of all, right now you’re finishing high school by this time. There is a girl in the class under you named Feather. Hold her like you’ve never held anything in your life. Because in a few years after you graduate, she’ll be dead. Cancer. You’ll regret never talking to her because you’ll think she’ll not want to hear from you. She did. I was told later that she asked for you right up to a few days before she passed. Forget your stupid little reasons. They don’t matter. Go to see her and marry that woman. Have her forgive you for being such a jerk. High school is high school, fine. But, there is a special place in hell for the shit you pulled.
Fortunately, you didn’t have to wait too long to get yours.
Second, you have a few ideas about moving out of state. Do it sooner. At some point in the near future, you’ll be standing at your job at the gas station, thinking about moving to Florida. At that point, quit your job and fucking go. Don’t finish your shift. Just leave. They won’t give a shit. Al and Rich don’t give a shit about you, though Rich’s daughter was actually in love with you. By the way. You’ll learn that in a few years.
Go. Don’t think, just go. In a few more weeks after that, something will happen that will change the way you think about your family. You’re better off pursuing your desires than being a part of the self-destructive shit show that’s coming.
Third, when you go down south, you’ll meet three women named Michelle. The first one is garbage, don’t hang around her. The second one is friend material, treat her like gold and when she asks if you want to go to Gasoline Alley, say yes. The third one will destroy your self-esteem, self-worth and your sense of happiness. She’ll shit on everything you ever stood for and rip two children away from you with a victim complex that will make it seem like it’s your fault. She’ll violate and beat the absolute crap out of everything that makes you you, and she’ll do that shit with a smile.
That being said, the third one is the one you have to be with. Hold her, and when it’s time to let her go, let her go. It will hurt like hell, but do it. Know that every day you wake up holding her is one day closer to your life collapsing in front of your eyes. This is perfectly alright.
Because, after her comes the most important thing that ever happened to you. You’ll try to kill yourself, and you’ll fail. But, when you wake up, your wife will be staring at you, hovering over your hospital bed. She’ll justify every little piece of shit you had to eat for the past 15 years. She’ll heal your wounds and make you resemble a person again. She’ll push you to be yourself, again. She’ll make you the Bane you should be.
You won’t recognize that she’s your wife when you wake up. But, one day, a few years after that, you’ll wake up next to her, see her sleeping, and start crying for no apparent reason. You’ll be a fucking bundle of nervous tears and you won’t understand why. Two weeks later, you’ll reflect on that morning and realize that you loved her even before Michelle left you bereft and alone on a hot summer day, sweating in your own filth. The woman before will rob you of everything you ever gave a fuck about. This new woman will give everything back to you, and then some. She’ll have your back when the rest of the world wants you to die. She’ll hold you when you’re at your weakest. But, more importantly, she’ll let you know when you’re being an asshole, and she won’t stand for it. She’ll kick your ass, emotionally and physically, until you’re back to normal.
Because unlike everyone, and I mean EVERYONE who came before, she loves you more than she loves herself and everyone around her.
You’ll never deserve her. You’ll recognize this when you’re 32. You’ll look over while she’s tending to your daughter and you’ll start tearing up when you figure it out. You’re a complete fucking asshole and no one wants you but her, and no one should. You’re seen by a lot of your friends as this bastion of strength, this powerhouse of barbed word, unchecked and unbridled desires, and intense physical strength. But, they’ll never know how many people you’ve hurt, how many broken hearts you’ve caused and how many nights of misery had your mark on them.
She knows about 99% of them, and she still deals with you. She still loves you.
This woman is your savior. Which is funny to me right now, because at one point, after one of your deepenings, you’ll consider disappearing. You’ll even go so far as to select a place. But, you won’t go. You know why? Because you’ll NEVER have it as good as you had it then. You’ll have to come down from your vicodin-addled week of creative torture before you realize it, but you’ll come down, and you’ll spend the next week in her arms, ignoring work and everyone and everything else.
Because you belong there.
Every little piece of emotional damage that you suffer (and suffer, you will) because of your actions will be worth it. You will have found what very few people in this world find…
…happiness. Love. Acceptance.
She will be your rock. She’ll be your savior, in every sense of the word. She sold her car for you. Literally, she sold her beat up Ford Escort for under $150 so that she could purchase a bus ticket for you, so you wouldn’t kill yourself in your grief.
You’re an idiot. But, thanks to her, you’ll be whole for the first time in your life. She’ll fill those empty spaces and hold you when you fall the fuck apart, which will be pretty often. She’ll be what you needed to finally become a person, instead of this force of nature that just destroys everything.
You won’t deserve any of it. But, she’ll do it. Because she loves you.
The world will fall the hell apart around you (Trump will get elected in 2016), but that won’t matter because you’ll be too happy to notice.
Make sure you treat her the way she deserves because I WILL fucking end you otherwise.
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