June 7, 2008

Jun 07, 2008 19:09

Dean, I should probably tell you. I left, a little over a week ago. This thing with Bobby, it's more than I can deal with. It's for good. I didn't have anything I could say to him anymore.

It's just too ridiculous, how he wants me to -- he told me to stop looking over my shoulder, Dean, and I'm not going to. You never gave up on me and I'm not going to give up on you. I don't care what you said. I know you don't want me to just let go and let you rot there.

Dad's jacket doesn't fit me. Most of your clothes wouldn't either. Maybe it should be obvious, but I tried the bigger stuff on. The whole growing into your brother's shoes thing. I want to keep what I can, for when I get you back. Bobby tried to get me to throw them away or burn them and I told him no.

I left over your damn clothes. Isn't that bizarre? I washed them at the coin laundry. It was weird, like, I couldn't even watch them in the spin cycle tossing together. I think it was because I kept catching myself thinking that you were going to come back from the corner store with a 6-pack and a bag of kettle chips any minute. I ended up walking over there just to get it out of my head.

I gave most of your clothes to the city shelter in O'Fallon, Missouri. If you're attached to any of it, we can go back for what they might still have. Kept all your other stuff. I got a leg holster for your gun and your knife, so you're still my backup. At least that's here.

The radio in the car is blowing again but everything else with her is good. I think she misses you, too.

Sam

from sam

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