>You shouldn’t go out. You shouldn’t, because bro said it was not safe for you to go out. You shouldn’t, because it’s a bit late and mostly, because you’re supposed to be dead. But woah, some miracle happened and someone grafted you with a week of life before coming back as the ghost you are, so, why the fuck not? You’re going to die in any case, later. You decide to wear your usual pair of shades, a red hoodie, a pair of jeans a little bit baggy for your skinny-as-fuck body and a pair of red and white sneakers, the one your bro bought for your 17th birthday, before your fucked up suicide. Oh, you also decide to put a hat one, one of those ridiculous and colorful ones with some kind of braids on the side -and you still don’t fucking know what’s this thing’s name, of course. The iPhone was in your pocket with your little group of keys when you immedately dart out, feeling after years the cold and the breeze pinching your nose and cheeks. You wander around for a while, until you decide to spend the 5 bucks you found on the ground for a pack of cheetos -since your brother finished all the cheetos in the house, that greedy fucker. And, wandering in the supermarket, you accidentally bump against the last person you were imagining to meet.
Dear people in my quadrants [ can specify separate letters for each of the quadrants ]
((I will do that then.))
Good god, where to start. I love you. I love you so much, it’s incredible. Ridiculous, even. I absolutely, 100% adore you, and I’m so glad you lasted through those first few days of utter insanity to become the person you are to me now.
I’m so glad for your incredibly loving and caring heart. I thank you for helping parent our ridiculous amount of kids. I can’t believe how incredible you are for being the dad you are, and reaching out even when people refuse you.
Thanks a million, Karkat.
God, how do I even put this on paper?!
I love you. I love you so much. You’re absolutely fucking phenomenal, and I love you. I am so ridiculously glad that I decided to take the leap and click on someone’s response to a read-more, reading about some random John’s problems, and then decide to anon and ask him about them. I wouldn’t be here typing this letter otherwise. You’ve made such an impact on my life, and for that I can’t thank you enough.
I absolutely adore you, John. I’m not leaving ever. Thank you for being here, and for being mine.
Dear auspice (because I have one now, hahahaha.):
Dude, seriously. I love you, you’re great.
I think you’re seriously fucking fantastic. You make me pretty damn happy, as a matter of fact, and I really do love you. I think you’re pretty great for being willing to stand up and yell at me when I’m doing something incredibly stupid.