Return answer to Rehab letter #4mark_kosikJuly 29 2004, 16:30:44 UTC
(written in pencil on yellow legal paper) Dear Yank, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire life. It scares me because there's so much you and I don't talk about. I want your time in rehab, my time without you here to change that. I want to tell you all the things I do, now and before. I've told you bits like, what I did to Lisa and the rest, but just facts. Nothing about what it took in me to do those things, or what it means for me now. I haven't told you about my Grand Dad; all that he was to me. And I didn't tell you how my arm got broken in hospital or why. I haven't told anyone that, but I would tell you. I'll tell you anything, but I want you to WANT to hear it. It scares me that just maybe you never will. I think about that allot. I'm thinking about it now.
I love you so much Yank, so fucking much I want you to be happy. Even if we find out I'm not the one that can make you that happy, I want you to be it. It would knock me to the ground if I lost you, but it would kill me if I kept you with me and I was hurting you. I love you enough to let you go-but I don't want to Yank. I want you to get better, I want us to do the things we need to do in our selves and together. I want us to be. I want us to mean for life; I'm not talking about rings or family, I'm talking about you and me being together until we die. I'm talking about us choosing each other over everyone else in the world to love. I'm talking about me needing a farm more than I need a gun.
I do want that farm, Yank. I want that world. I need it. You're the one that can build it with me. You're the one I know that would help me to feel it in my blood and call it home. Lisa wasn't home, but you, you are. I love you.
I keep meeting new people and doing things but it's like I'm watching tele and the program isn't that interesting. Like I only half watched it, half cared what happened and it was like this life happened but I wasn't even there. These things keep happening but to someone else and not me. I know I sound completely daft but it's like that now: life with you not here is only a life half lived.
Except once. A mate of mine, Tyler; his woman gave birth to twin babies. A boy and a girl. He invited me round to pay my respects and I fell in love. Hard I did, Yank you should have seen them, such tiny babies they are. I always wanted babies but Lisa, Lisa drug on about it. I guess she knew we'd meet a bad end or she didn't think I'd be anything but a shite father since I was such a shite husband. My chance for babies is well past- I know that but I wish so hard sometimes. I was holding the boy Tyler Jr. and I wished so hard I almost bawled. I had to remind myself that it was him and not Colt.
Jesus, Yank: If I could have raised him from a baby. He's beautiful now and strong. But if he had been mine from the beginning he would have had a proper father all along and not what he had. I would have had my son. I would have had a reason to become who I am now seventeen years ago. I wouldn't have married Lisa if I had I would have made a proper husband. I wouldn't have gone to jail or even hurt anyone like I did.
I might have met you sooner. Yank I know you and I are supposed to be here and now. We help each other, make each other want to be better then we are. I remember how we said that to one another before you left. You told me you wanted to be sober and I told you how I wanted to be faithful; how I want to be lovable. Jesus, Yank but for you I try AND succeed.
I haven't been around your house since you left. I'm still afraid that if I do go there I won't leave. I have responsibilities to Colt but save for him I would have done it. Waited for you on the lake in your little dingy: Or in your bathtub or in your bed. I miss you so fucking much.
We can do this; the both of us. Just do what needs to be done Yank. Tell them why, why you drink, why you use. Tell them so you can get well. I'll face my demons here, I promise you that. I love you. Please come home soon, I'm waiting.
Dear Yank,
I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire life. It scares me because there's so much you and I don't talk about. I want your time in rehab, my time without you here to change that. I want to tell you all the things I do, now and before. I've told you bits like, what I did to Lisa and the rest, but just facts. Nothing about what it took in me to do those things, or what it means for me now. I haven't told you about my Grand Dad; all that he was to me. And I didn't tell you how my arm got broken in hospital or why. I haven't told anyone that, but I would tell you. I'll tell you anything, but I want you to WANT to hear it. It scares me that just maybe you never will. I think about that allot. I'm thinking about it now.
I love you so much Yank, so fucking much I want you to be happy. Even if we find out I'm not the one that can make you that happy, I want you to be it. It would knock me to the ground if I lost you, but it would kill me if I kept you with me and I was hurting you. I love you enough to let you go-but I don't want to Yank. I want you to get better, I want us to do the things we need to do in our selves and together. I want us to be. I want us to mean for life; I'm not talking about rings or family, I'm talking about you and me being together until we die. I'm talking about us choosing each other over everyone else in the world to love. I'm talking about me needing a farm more than I need a gun.
I do want that farm, Yank. I want that world. I need it. You're the one that can build it with me. You're the one I know that would help me to feel it in my blood and call it home. Lisa wasn't home, but you, you are. I love you.
I keep meeting new people and doing things but it's like I'm watching tele and the program isn't that interesting. Like I only half watched it, half cared what happened and it was like this life happened but I wasn't even there. These things keep happening but to someone else and not me. I know I sound completely daft but it's like that now: life with you not here is only a life half lived.
Except once. A mate of mine, Tyler; his woman gave birth to twin babies. A boy and a girl. He invited me round to pay my respects and I fell in love. Hard I did, Yank you should have seen them, such tiny babies they are. I always wanted babies but Lisa, Lisa drug on about it. I guess she knew we'd meet a bad end or she didn't think I'd be anything but a shite father since I was such a shite husband. My chance for babies is well past- I know that but I wish so hard sometimes. I was holding the boy Tyler Jr. and I wished so hard I almost bawled. I had to remind myself that it was him and not Colt.
Jesus, Yank: If I could have raised him from a baby. He's beautiful now and strong. But if he had been mine from the beginning he would have had a proper father all along and not what he had. I would have had my son. I would have had a reason to become who I am now seventeen years ago. I wouldn't have married Lisa if I had I would have made a proper husband. I wouldn't have gone to jail or even hurt anyone like I did.
I might have met you sooner. Yank I know you and I are supposed to be here and now. We help each other, make each other want to be better then we are. I remember how we said that to one another before you left. You told me you wanted to be sober and I told you how I wanted to be faithful; how I want to be lovable. Jesus, Yank but for you I try AND succeed.
I haven't been around your house since you left. I'm still afraid that if I do go there I won't leave. I have responsibilities to Colt but save for him I would have done it. Waited for you on the lake in your little dingy: Or in your bathtub or in your bed. I miss you so fucking much.
We can do this; the both of us. Just do what needs to be done Yank. Tell them why, why you drink, why you use. Tell them so you can get well. I'll face my demons here, I promise you that. I love you. Please come home soon, I'm waiting.
Love you forever,
Jason
Reply
Leave a comment