I was originally going ask you how you've been but with the nature of how this letter works, I'm pretty sure you or I would know, or should I have said "we"? This is all happening so fast and I don't want to waste any more ink on this, so just drop it, alright?
I think I'm happy for you, I'm not really sure. Should I be? I mean you totally have this tendency to throw good things away. No matter what it is. Remember that time we were really happy but also really scared so we just pumped the brakes on the whole thing and spent the next couple months living in regret and crying in our car at lunch (that was fun)? I guess I'll write you two letters: the first one is if you're doing alright (which will be a pleasant surprise) and the second one is if you fucked everything in your life up (which won't be pleasant or a surprise).
Dearest Paul (you made it),
I can't believe you did it. I mean, I can... I think. We did it. You got a cool enough job, you have a lot of tattoos, and I think you have a girlfriend (or boyfriend, I don't know what the fuck you're into now). But look at us, man. Doing things with our life.
Remember how all your "friends" never believed in you. I mean they said they did but they really didn't and here you are doing better than they ever will. Fuckin' high five, dude. Wait what? You're over that? You don't care about them? Damn, I guess a lot has changed. I mean, right now, we're all about that. We want to make them feel horrible about themselves for hating on you so hard. Shit, alright.
I guess you've grown up. And that's weird to think about. I mean, we've always sort of been this childish, weird, fucked up kid but here you are. Looking at this sheet of paper, sort of, laughing at the way you used to be. I guess it's a lot better than wishing you were your old you, right? Fuck, I didn't think I'd get all teary eyed while writing this but, uh, man, I'm proud of you, dude. You did something. You still get sad, I know, and that weight is real but, like, I'm fucking hype that you figured out how to carry that cross. I love you, man. I'm proud of you.
I guess that song we used to listen to all the time was right:
"I am weary but I'll never lose my heart."
And you haven't. We haven't. That's fucking sick.
You (you fucking idiot, you knew it was me. why did I write this part?)
Hey Asshole (you fucked up),
Listen, man. I'm going to be real with you, alright? Don't take this personally but also take it really, really fuckin' personally. I don't know when you're going to change but you need to do it, like, right fucking now. Yeah, yeah, I've heard that shit all before. You remember this, song?
The sails are slashed we’re fucked for sure. I’m falling starboard, I’m falling over...
We are fucked, dude. You slashed the sails, we were on a good path. What happened? Actually, maybe I've come on a little too strong, here. I know what happened. I do, you were afraid. And you succumbed to that fear (the way we always do) and you know what?
It's alright. Because this is a learning process. And I know I'm not there right now with you but it's okay. I know how hard it can get, I know what getting lost in your own head feels like, and I know how much you want to give up and quit on everyone.
But here's the thing. You didn't give up. You're reading this, right now. And you're alive. And I love you, okay? Remember that shit, keep this card close to your chest. Don't forget. There are people that love you, and I (you, me, we) am one of them.
You (why the fuck did I write this part? You know who it is)