The First Letter
To be honest, I’m not really sure what to write. I feel like it’s all a nightmare and that I’ll wake up to you with a goofy smile, a PBR (“The Nectar of the Gods”) in hand and ask if I had a nice nap. I feel like I’ll come into work and see you laughing with my boss with a cup of black coffee. I was never quite sure how you stomached the coffee here, but you always said coffee is coffee and it all tastes the same. I keep checking my phone to see if you’ve sent me screenshots of the funny conversations with your friends, to offer me a starbucks, or just come over during my shift at work to give me a hug when I was having a bad day. I remember sitting in your room while you pulled out your dad’s old guitar, telling me about the adventures it had been on and signing me a song. I remember you trying to hit the high notes of the BeeGees songs after going to Kroll’s diner on Saturday “mornings”. You always tried to convince me they were one of the best bands ever. Its the little things...