Epistolary Therapy 1

Brite,

I found a level of give a fuck that I never knew I had. I don't know if I should thank you or kick you in the balls when I see you. Maybe it wasn't even you but I pretty much gave up the bad shit. You made a difference and why you've run off to home without a care when I sit here and try to think of anything else but you I will never understand. You've managed to worm your way into my subconscious and at the same time make me proud of every root and tendril I'm from. Maybe it's because I've had to grasp tightly to those roots to survive the blast; the hit was hard and I had to reconnect to what was real. The evil I know. Like I said, I don't know if I should thank you or kick you in the balls when I see you. I'm more than ready to forget you and am working diligently to do so. He knows me well enough to know exactly what is wrong. I can't expect him to make any sudden moves when I am just as incapable. You were the bringer of limbo. The reaper of solace. I don't know if I should thank you or kick you in the balls when I see you.

Regretfully Yours,

X