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alexa, play I KNOW THE END by phoebe bridgers
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Dear Tatum,
Hiya kiddo. I am so sorry that you're reading this letter, because I only told Sid to give this to you under one condition, and...well honey, I'm just sorry. I can't even begin to imagine how you're feeling right now, and I wish I was there to tell you everything little thing is gonna be alright, but since I'm not a liar (we know who the liar is out of your parents, don't we?), I'm not gonna tell you what all your inevitable therapists are gonna try to tell you. It's not gonna be okay for a real long time, Tates, and you might never be your old you, but that's not a bad thing. I know you, kid, I know you better than anybody else in this whole, crazy world, and I know that you're gonna get through this. You're not gonna be the next Ghostface, but if there is ever another one, you'll stop them before they even start. Wanna know how I know that? Because you are Dewey Riley's daughter, and yeah, I'm talking about myself in third person, but you always used to do that, so I figured why not leave one lasting memory?
Sorry, sorry, I know I'm rambling. so...I thought I would be better at this, and I'm sorry that I'm not, but I've got myself speechless. I just don't know what I want to say. I always thought I'd have some great last words to tell you a hundred years from now, that those words would just find themselves naturally when the time came, but here it is: the time has come and I have no clue what to say. OK. Screw it, right? You only live once, so, I'm just gonna write down whatever and really hope it makes a little bit of sense to you.
Don't stop living. Don't turn into me because I'm not there for you anymore, please. You're stronger than that, you're better than that. You've always been the best of me, Tatum, and I don't want you to turn into the worst of yourself because you swear you don't know what to do with your life anymore. I don't want you to start drinking like I did, and I don't want you to turn upright and never have real happiness in life like your mother did, after everything we've gone through. I resigned from being Sheriff because a couple of teens wanted fame, and I lost everything because of that. Except for you, but that's not the point right now. The point is, you have a whole life ahead of you, and if you waste it because you can't get over me, then that'd make me very sad up here. Or down there. You've got so much potential, you can go great places, you can be the good that this world needs to see, you can tell whoever these two killers are to kiss your ass, because you didn't let what happened to you stop you from living.
You lived, Tatum, and that's for a good reason. I know it. And I know it's sad that I didn't live with you, but that doesn't make you living any less of a good reason. Hell, that makes it an even greater reason, if you really think about it. Now, I'm not gonna tell you to live for me, because that would make you miserable everyday, so I'm just gonna tell you to live. Slow down in life, take a moment to soak in all the good you've got, and take it in. Just breathe in, and breathe out. Take life one breath at a time, and I'm telling you, you're already doing better than I was at your age. Not every single day is gonna make you feel happy to be breathing, but if you take in little moments, that's what will get you through those rough days.
You're a wonderful person, and I can't wait for the rest of the world and all the people you'll meet to see how wonderful you are, too. Just don't forget one last thing: don't be mad at your friends or anybody, but be mad at God. Screw that guy. He's one hell of a two-faced prick. I asked him for a sign seventeen years ago, and your mother got pregnant with you, which was great, but apparently he can't even let me see you turn eighteen, so just...screw him. Be mad at him. Also, I mean, be mad at whoever you want to be, but don't forget about the big guy up there too. I'm sorry, that was a tangent I needed to get out. I warned you I wasn't gonna think about anything I wrote, so this is you reading this at your own discretion, right? Sorry. Again.
Laugh about me. Cry about me. Scream at the skies about me. Wish for one last hug with me. Dream about me, and all those other things you can do and emotions you can feel towards me, you do that and more, but just don't forget me. Not everybody in the world needs to know about me, but I really need you to know about me. And your kids. And your friends. I'm really sorry we didn't get to give each other one last goodbye, but if I know me, and if I know you (which I really hope I do), I know we got one last hug. One last couple of good words to each other, even if we didn't know those would be our last words. I trust us, I trust you. I always want you to trust yourself, too. In this type of world we live in, where we can't trust anybody, trust yourself. And Simon Loomis. Yeah, Loomis, like...you know who. He's a really great guy, and he'll take care of you when you need it. But I know your trust has to be earned by other people and all, so...trust yourself in the meantime.
At this point, I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm just rambling on and adding stupid sentences in here and all those 'dot dot dots' because I don't know how to end this letter. I don't know what my last words to you are gonna be in person, which scares me a lot, but trying to think about the last words I'll ever write to you? It's really hard. I'm so sorry, Tatum, that I won't get to see you become the great woman I've always known you'd turn into, that I won't get to be there for you. I'm sorry, and I miss you already. I'm sure you miss me more, and usually I'd never let you win one of those 'more' battles, but something tells me you really do deserve to win this battle one last time, so...you win, kiddo.
Do all those things we planned, see all those places, meet all those celebrities, sing all those songs, dance those weird dances you dance, adopt all the cats, watch all those shows, do whatever you want to do in life and do a great job, even when you don't do a great job. Never stop living for me, pumpkin. Keep on living. You've got this. You can do anything you set your mind to, so you go and you get it. I know you can, and I know you will.
I love you so much. I never could've asked for a better daughter, you gave me my fifth shot at life, and you've really shown to me that I finally did something right in my life. You're the only thing I didn't screw up or fuck over, and I'm proud of you. From the cries you let out in your mom's arms in the delivery room, to when you finally told me how you felt about Wes, to the way you defended me to Sam, even down to how you had enough courage to wake up this morning and get out of bed, I've been proud of you. And I always will be, and I don't ever want you to forget that. Promise me that you will never, ever, ever forget how proud of you I am.
