Ex Pen Pals || michael clifford

1.2

31st December, 2011

Mikey!

You sound drunk, or happy. I’d like to think it’s both; you know, it being Christmas and all. I don’t know why we’re always trying to compete with each other. I'm writing you this on the last day of this year. Is 11:45 PM and that is way cooler than writing me a letter on Christmas.

If you must know, I too would want to meet you. I’d like to know what this whole ‘Mikey hug’ would feel like.

Also, I peeped at Luke’s YouTube channel. Needless to say, I like his face.

So... (and I'm serious), please send me this ‘proof’ of Ashton naked. You can also send one of Luke; so I can decide who I like more.

I may or may not be drunk as I write this. I refuse to read it over for mistakes or signs of insanity because I’d like you to think I'm the funniest shit you’ve ever seen. Yes, I am drunk. I just called myself a shit.

My dad is acting weird. I don’t know how I even picked it up because I hardly see him in the first place. He’s almost never home now. And I think he may be drinking now. He always smells like booze and he brings home booze. He bought it with the money that I put in the mail box. Can you even believe that? I work my fucking ass off to help him and he spends the money on fucking booze. So, I decided to help myself to some.

Now being drunk didn’t even pay off. I drank so when I wrote this I’d be babbling about Oreos or ponies or some shit like that but I guess that ‘a drunk man tells no tales’ thing is true because here I am pouring my heart out to you. I'm sorry for depressing you on the last day of the year. I just... Michael I don’t get it.

I don’t get it.

I'm tired of having to clean up after my father. I'm fucking sixteen. I'm supposed to be sneaking out and getting boyfriends with scruffy beards like that hott dude from Teen Wolf. I'm supposed to be getting laid or doing whatever the cool people my age do. Instead I'm at home, shit worried that my dad is gonna come home drunk or just... not come home at all. All I need is a break. I just want to push pause on my life, breathe for a few minutes, and take a ton of vodka shots, then go again. Your letters are literally a breath of fresh air Michael. I look forward to them so much.

I'm really sorry again for laying all this on you at a time like this. I'm drunk and there’s like 3 minutes left in this year and I feel like making out with someone; preferably that same hott Teen Wolf guy.

Even though I'm drunk, I'm still gonna do this. I keep saying it Mikey. Please don’t argue with me. Peace is better.

Peace,

Abigail Crystal.

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