slacker's-log

Hey you

Friend with the world crashing down on your shoulders

I can’t guarantee all will be well with all the hell you have today

I can’t guarantee that the fight for your well-being will get any easier

But I do know that the sun will rise for you as it will for me and anyone else

There’s some hope and healing to be found in a tomorrow

“We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken.”

2

Probably the most surprising and one of the best gifts that I’ve ever received on my birthday was a letter from my fair lass. Being on the other side of the country, she didn’t think it would make it on time, but it did, right on my birthday. The letter was written on four pages with purple ink, several misspellings and blotted out words. It was a beautiful letter, one of reassurance in aging, laced with sophistication in each paragraph, mixed about with references to childhood and the intellectual realm and topped with the personality I fell for. On the last page, a tracing of her hand which I found to be smaller than mine. The backs of each paper would spell out a word that we’ve adopted from John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars as a sort of centerpiece for our relationship’s conversations:

Okay.

Everything was more than okay, for today, I received something that she had touched. It’s the closest thing to the real her I have in my possession, one I’ll be remembering for many years to come in my adulthood. 

Gabbi, I promise you and everyone I hold dear to me that I will always stay true to the me that everyone came to know in these past 18 years no matter how old I become. I’ll always be that kid and although that kid was imperfect, I won’t regret anything he’s ever done, the people that he’s met and the mistakes he’s made, for they shaped who I am today. I like my choices. I hope you like yours.