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Letter to a Friend
Dear Jack,
I remember back when we were kids. I remember the preplanned events at the birthday parties: the jump house, the squirt gun fights, the games of basketball. Those were fun times and I wish we could go back to those days and live them back again. The more innocent times, back when everything was fun; before high school, girls, and drugs. Before all of that.
I remember when we saw each other again freshman year; how we started that bad punk band. We would go to shows every weekend, always drinking under Lost Boys' Bridge, laughing at the world as a joke.
I remember watching you throw your phone across Daniel's lawn after you heard that your mom had gotten beaten again by her meth-addicted boyfriend. I remember you yelling at your mom to find a real home. I remember when that a****** went to jail and we thought it would all get better.
I'll always remember the first time I saw you after your mom died. I'll always remember the way you raised your 40 trying to smile. “To Mama.” I'll never forget.
“To Sandy,” Daniel and I echoed, not knowing quite what to say.
I remember you trying to tell me you were depressed. I know it must've been really hard for you to admit that, let alone tell one of your peers. You were always quick to make fun of me, but I would tell you were serious.
I remember telling you that we would hang out soon. That was a few months ago. I've been so preoccupied with my own life, I've completely shut out my friends. I've been selfish and I'm sorry. I hope its not too late to still be your friend. Hopefully we can hang out soon.
Your friend,
Michael
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