Ex Pen Pals || michael clifford

1.3

14th January, 2012

Abigail Crystal,

This letter made me sad. Now, before you blow your top off; it’s not that kind of sad I had when I used to be depressed. I really am beginning to think I got over that. I’ve got the guys, my mom and most of all, I’ve got you and I don’t think I’ll be depressed anymore.

But everything seemed so fine with your dad after he got out the hospital. I told you before that I'm no good at giving advice and these letters are our thing so no one knows specific details about them. They just know that we write to each other. But, try talking to someone, anyone; the mailman, the milkman, a teacher, I don’t care Abigail. Just promise me you’ll find someone there and talk to them. You’re supposed to be the sweet happy one that fixes me. I can't have you being broken; especially when I'm too broken to fix you myself. So, find someone there to talk to; someone better able (than I am) to help you. Can you do that for me?

I don’t want you to give up on your dad though. You seem really tired of his shit but do not give up on him. He’s hurting and the booze probably makes him feel better. Just let him know you’re there. He needs to know that someone is still sticking around him even though he is an ass now. I know what it feels like to have people give up on you. I don’t want him to feel that. Google couldn’t give me something smart to say I'm completely winging it here and I sound like I belong on Tumblr. Wait, you don’t have Internet so you won’t know what Tumblr is. God, Abby you’re a caveman.

But I remember you telling me once to think happy thoughts. Picture me naked. That should do the trick. Me naked should be able to make you happy enough.

Yolo (I refuse to continue this argument),

Michael Gordon.

 ps. If you dare say anything about my middle name I will swim over there and choke you because yolo.

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Happy Sunday; I'm still sick. 

I just sniffed too hard on my inhaler thingy and I cried. Excuse me while i die.