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penelopie wilson

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translations

dear w,

god i miss you. i miss you so much sometimes all of the air is knocked out of me. it’s more than us that i miss. you were my best friend. my very best friend. w…you were the best friend i have ever had.

i know that even now if i called you up and needed anything, you would be there somehow. i also know that if i called you, hearing your voice would be more than i can take, and i’d die a thousand deaths just like before. not like before. before i died every death possible.

sometimes i think it would be worth it, though, just to hear your voice one more time. to hear you call me that ridiculous nickname you gave me. i remember thinking how crazy it was and how that is not possibly a nickname at all. you laughed your beautiful laugh and assured me that it was, indeed, a nickname and that i would see. you would prove it to me. you did. and now i miss being called that stupid nickname you gave me. i’d give anything to hear you call me it one more time.

things are tough right now, w. you and i never really had too many deep talks. we never really needed to, i guess. our communication on that deeper level was primarily nonverbal and occurred in our most intimate moments. we spoke our darkest and most private secrets to one another while we made love, through our bodies…with our eyes, even when they were shut. and we confessed our truest feelings when we simply laid by one another, calmly in the dark (or light) with you on your back, your arm around me and my arm on your chest…fingers silently whispering every hurt and scar.

i wish that i could call you up and say “ten minutes.” and you say “ok.” and then meet you at our usual hangout. seeing you would fill me up inside so much that i might just burst. you would be happy, too, w. i know you. i know that you miss me, too. i know that you loved me, as much as you were capable of. you are so damaged. you were so damaged. we were two damaged people who fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

damaged. i’m beyond damaged now. i don’t have anyone holding me together anymore. you know, there was g for the longest time. i know you have a great fondness for him, if not love. i remember seeing your face when i told you i was moving into his house. you had tears. we never talked much about it, but my drug addiction and alcoholism…well, i was on death’s door and even you couldn’t save me.

you were right, you know. when we would argue about it. i denied it, but you were right. i loved you more than anyone and anything, except for the drug that ultimately took me down. the one i refer to as the ‘love of my life.’ you and i both know why i call it that. nothing, no one had ever came between us. God knows there were many things and people who tried. none of those things or people made a dent in us…until my addictions took over. until that one drug…became the love of my life instead of you. and you watched me die a slow, slow death.

i saw the panic in your eyes towards the end, w. you didn’t know what to do. that day that i saw you and i was coming down because i was almost out and didn’t have the quantity i usually did in my system. withdrawal was beginning. it wasn’t pretty. i begged you to do something. find something. anything. you never touched any of that stuff, but you knew people. you refused, though. you hated getting me any type of illegal drug. especially this one and the others i asked for to substitute in its place. you refused. you had panic in your eyes as i began to have a panic attack…that turned into a meltdown. on the verge of a nervous breakdown. you didn’t know what to do. you just stood there as i begged, yelled, cried, begged, yelled, cried…and then you left. as you left i remember being on the floor, a complete mess, crying and saying “you are leaving me? like this? now?” in a normal tone. and you replied, “yes.” i said “why?! how can you leave me like this?” and you said, “because i can’t watch this.” and you continued to walk out and i said to you, with the flattest tone i have ever had in my entire life, “if you walk out that door right now, you will never see me again. it will be a mistake. and i’m not making a threat. i just know. inside. this will be it.” and you said, with tears in your eyes, “i know.” and you shut the door behind you.

a holy war broke out as soon as you left. rage, unparalleled to any anger or rage i have ever seen anyone have spewed from my body. screaming and hitting and ramming my head into the wall. blood everywhere. the rage was toward myself. no one else. and it was fierce. i was still higher than a kite, but didn’t feel like it. i was anxious as hell and couldn’t be still, even though i had not slept in four days. i had not ate anything in…hell, around two weeks. maybe more. i was mad as hell. angry at the world. i called every dealer. nothing. everyone was dry. i had multiple dealers.

i couldn’t take it anymore. i got in my car and left the apartment. i headed back to that house i was renting in that small town. the house i never stayed at, that had no furniture. remember? i was using our air mattress we had bought? well, you bought. there was no stove, no refrigerator. i had no television. it was literally just the air mattress and the bedding. it was empty, just like i was.

when i got there i stormed in. i paced all over frantically. my hands were in my hair, pulling. my fists were beating on me, i couldn’t stop to think. there was too much noise. my heart was beating too fast. i remember thinking that i refused to live this Godforsaken life sober. and fuck you. fuck everyone. just like that, the decision was made. just like that.

i was going to go to the city, to the well known spot where drugs were sold, and get them myself. we lived a good three hours from the city. we lived in a city, but considerably smaller than the city i was headed to. it was a death mission. a 100% guaranteed death mission. Lord knows what would’ve happened to me before death…but death was inevitable. i would have never have walked out of that area. ever. i didn’t care. i wanted the drugs, i didn’t care about my life…i didn’t care about anything.

you know the rest of the story. well, you know enough for right now. i never went to the city. a miracle happened instead. it was an undisputed miracle, still to this day.

i’d called you and told you where i was and what was happening. over the phone i could hear your voice break and relief flood your entire body. i remember seeing you, however long after it was that i had detoxed and they had let me have my keys. you had me meet you at that same apartment. when i walked in you were already there.

you were so nervous that day. w, you were so nervous. you had never been nervous around me a day in your life…until that day. everything seemed to happen in slow motion at the beginning. i opened the door and walked in. as soon as i walked in, we saw each other. immediately we made eye contact. your eyes are so beautiful, w. on that day, though, they were the most beautiful eyes i have ever seen. you froze. stiff. you didn’t know what to do or where to go. i was stopped dead where i stood.

i had never seen you with sober eyes before. ironically, that is what had us both in the position we were in, but for very different reasons. you were so afraid. you later told me that you had never felt as full inside as you did when i walked through that door on that day. the sight of me took your breath away. you had never seen me sober before. you had never seen my eyes sober before.

we stood across from one another for what seemed like an hour (but was actually probably a minute) and just stared at each other. i had never loved you more than i did at that moment. it wasn’t until later that you told me how afraid you were in those minutes that day. you thought that i might not want you, i might not love you now that i was sober. the opposite was true, however. we were like two strangers meeting for the first time that day. two strangers who had known each other their entire lives. it was probably one of the most memorable moments of my life.

i had a tear fall down my cheek, followed by another one and another one…and at once you were right there, staring at me in wonder and wiping away the tears. you simply said “hi.” and i let out somewhat of a laugh between the tears. before i knew it, you had your arms around me so tight, hugging me like you hadn’t seen me in years. we stayed in each other’s embrace for awhile. and then you cupped my head in your hands and gave me the most gentle and sweetest kiss i have ever had. we made love that day, right there on the floor of that apartment. we also made love in the bedroom of that apartment not too long after. i successfully reassured you that sober or not, it was you i loved. it was you i wanted.

i have been writing you this letter for over a day now. in just a day i have received blow after blow. indeed i just want to call you up and say “hey. i need a drink.” and then meet you at our spot and see your beautiful face. what i wouldn’t give to hear about the things that have went on these last, almost 6, years. i saw that your oldest son passed away earlier this year. i was truly sad to hear that. i know that he was not your biological son, but you raised him from birth and had adopted him. you loved him dearly. i can only imagine the pain you are experiencing. you could always open up to me. it would do you some good now, i’m sure.

i’d want to check you over. when you almost died in that car wreck…well, i can’t talk about that still.

just being near you. smelling you. seeing you. touching your face. all of that would be healing in ways that nothing else can compare to. it would be nice if you would call me.

but we won’t call each other. we will live out our days like this…dreaming and remembering. swimming in pain of mistakes made and years lost. life. i’d give anything to hear you call me by my nickname, though. just one more time, w.

i love you.

-p

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