And a Happy New Year || Self
Dear Sober Sammy,
There are moments in your life where you are forced to write a letter to yourself; this is one of them. I know spending New Year’s Eve stuck in an elevator with a Criminal Profiler who looks like she’s been dressed by drunk fairies, wasn’t how you ideally wanted to spend the holiday. Hell, you wanted to spend the holiday at home with August having the cupcakes your mother makes every new year. The ones that combine various traditions from around the world, where you place items in the cupcakes, and whatever you get decides how your years going to go.
I know it’s cheating, but I (you?) were hungry and decided to eat one before twelve: you got the plastic lucky cat ( ew, cats - i know ). From what I remember, the cat symbolizes luck. You’re going to get lucky. Oh, god. Innuendo not intended. Ignore that statement and let’s get down to this resolution business:
1.] Never use elevators, again. Use the stairs. Not like you’d tell Olivia this, but the idea of being stuck in a small space in a moving room is really fucking scary. You’re likely not going to die in here. You’re likely to be in here for another three to four hours. But Christ on a bike…you don’t have to die to go to hell, apparently.
2.] August. Love him, yeah? It’s what he needs most; your love. It’s your job to show him there is good in the world. You’re the one who he relies on now. Only you. I know sometimes, when he’s upset he has the same exact smirk as his father and knows the smirk hurts much worse than any comment he makes - but ignore that. He’s been through a lot, too. He’s been through hell and back. He had to grow up faster than other children. Maybe set up a conference with Miss Carrow, again? The last time she and you spoke, she was very insightful about how August felt about his life and the world around him. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but it could have been worse. He’s coming around, too. Just listen to Andrew Lee Webber with him, like he likes. Belt out ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’ or any of those other annoying songs. He’s a good kid. Love him. That’s really it.