Goodbye to you.
I hope you don't become anyone's bitch in jail. Which is probably unlikely because you're blonde and pretty. Still, I hope you don't all the same.
We'll all miss you. Maybe we'll mention you a few times a day. Probably whenever someone's leaning against that cabinet. The one you always lean on when you aren't being at all helpful. I'll remember you whenever Tony sings Umbrella and I'll remember how much I hated when you sang it.
I bet the new kids are going to hear crazy stories about you. If you come back, by the time you come back, the stories they heard by then will be so distorted.
It probably doesn't help your case that I describe it as you smacking someone in the skull with a crowbar.
I hope when you come back, you're the same person. I hope you're not too jaded. I hope you can still come in and argue with me about absolutely nothing. I hope I can hug you when you come back and I hope you're going to be okay.
I hate that your life is about the worst decision you've made.
I can't wait to see you again.
Bye.