Do not give up. I am writing this letter from a place of power, happiness and contentment. Be safe in the knowledge that you are growing towards this.
Your last message.
If I ever pass Nickerson Beach, I recall those summers at my friend’s beach club. The beach club was a summer home for us, encompassing repetition day in and day out. Basking in what could only be described as innocence.
Maybe it’s getting older that makes you less exciting.
My mind won’t stop. It’s reminding me that we’re in the same city again and all I want to do is be near you.
Teenage girls were scattered on the white rug in sleeping bags. Whispering. Story-telling when the lights went out.
My entire body froze.
I wished that I told you all the words I’ve kept to myself all those years, how I felt more like myself when I’m with you.
Wish you had someone to talk to even though you would have zero idea what to even say to someone when you’re in an insomniac state and are feeling lonely.
I ain’t worried about nothing. I ain’t worried about nada.