Letters to Slimmy, Chapter 23

Merry Christmas, Slim. Today marks 8 years. Doesn't seem that long, does it? I'm extremely emotional today. Tears well up and fall as if on cue. My mind is racing a mile a minute and I can't think straight. I want to be alone, but must endure their presence. I will try to keep busy to get me through. Wish me luck. I love you.

Letters to Slimmy, Chapter 22

Hi Slim,

Well, so much for keeping up with my writing. Lately I'm a warrior fighting many, many battles. A one-woman army if you will. And I'm getting hit from all sides. It's exhausting and I'm thisclose to raising the white flag in surrender. But will I? You know, Slim, I keep getting told what a "strong" woman I am considering all that I've been through. Oh, if those people only knew the half of it. But one thing's for sure and that is I don't feel so strong. I may appear strong on the outside, but inside my spirit is broken and my will is waning. ("Where it's at! I got 2 turntables and a microphone".....thank the heavens for Beck. hehe) As I was saying, I feel increasingly weak day by day. I'll be nothing more than an empty shell pretty soon! Ugh, I don't know Slim. What's to become of me, hmmm? I push on and on and on...and speaking of which I need to get back to my orders (biz is really picking up thanks to him). I guess being busy pushes that white flag further down.

I miss you, Slim. But then again, I don't.

J

Letters to Slimmy, Chapter 21

Hey Slim,

I know I’ve been pretty lax in writing to you regularly. Sorry about that. Things have been pretty busy lately, not to mention stressful. I wanted to tell you about this house I visited last night. You saw it, didn’t you? It’s so beautiful, filled with cushy furniture, kitschy knick knacks, well-read books, thriving plants, photos galore…you name it, it was in this house! It wasn’t too far from the home we once shared. Actually, it was just around the corner. I couldn’t help feeling pangs of envy as I walked through, feeling the love and comfort flowing from room to room. It’s the kind of home where you feel welcome and comfortable from the moment you walk through the door. Even the four legged occupants of the home welcomed me with excited barking and slobbery kisses. There was such a wonderful feeling of peace that came over me as I sat at the kitchen table just chatting away. I don’t know if it was the warm color palette used on everything from the walls to the furniture to the rugs, or if it was just from simply being in a house that someone very lovingly turned into a home. Whatever it was, it was inspiring. You know, Slim, I still haven’t forgiven myself for failing to turn our house into a home. It was what you wanted from me and what I wanted from myself and I let us both down. I wish I could go back in time and make things right. I would make that house an oasis of comfort, one in which you would feel most loved and never want to leave. But it’s too late for that now, huh? I’m so, so sorry.

Love,
J

Dear G

I thought of you today, but that is nothing new.

I thought about you yesterday and days before that, too.

I think of you in silence. I sometimes speak your name.

All I have are my memories, no more picture in a frame.

Your memory is a keepsake from which I’ll never part.

I’ll never have you in my arms but I’ll always have you in my heart.



Baby, I’ll always love you.

Letters to Slimmy, Chapter 20

Three strikes, Slim, and I’m out. I got the bad news recently: things are “winding down.” You know what that means, don’t you? I lost…again…for the third and last time. There’s no point in holding on any more. Any kind of future full of hope and promise and happiness and joy is gone. Tears have permanently replaced smiles and laughter, and I’ve locked up my heart nice and tight, never to open it again. It seems I’d been right all along. I kept trying to convince myself what I was feeling was fear and panic and paranoia. That it was all in my head…just my imagination playing tricks on me. But it’s so much more than that, Slim, it’s reality coming to slap me upside the head and purge my subconscious from any delusions of things turning around. So I’m embracing reality. Fuck it, no more pretending. It is what it is and I just have to accept it. Easier said than done, I know, but what choice do I really have?

Letters to Slimmy, Chapter 19

Hey Slim,

Breathe in, breathe out. At times like these I have to remember to breathe in, breathe out. You know what I'm talking about. My mind is racing and my heart is pounding and I just have to remember to breathe. That one simple act seems to clear my head and slow my heart, so I try to quiet myself by locking myself in room and just breathing. I know this is something that isn't a necessity for you anymore, but I know you understand. Isn't it funny how I always turn to you since I have nowhere else to turn? I cry out for help and my prayers seem to wither away and die, so I turn to the one whose breath no longer exists. Sad, I know. But that's what life has turned out to be: sad. Sadness and misery, hopelessness and fear. I thought I was through with this all those years ago, but it seems there's a whole lot more of that in store for me. Each day I learn to accept it a little bit more, but that's not to say that isn't just as hard for me now as it was then. Total numbness is closing in. Maybe, just maybe, when that numbness sets in none of this will make my mind race or my heart pound. All I'll need to do is breathe.

Letters to Slimmy, Chapter 18

Well, Slim, as you can see the new year has started off really bad. Your wish has came true a thousand times over, while my prayers and pleas for help go unanswered. It hardly seems fair, you know. I have already suffered and endured a lifetime of misery and heartbreak, and still can't seem to catch a break. I can't help but wonder if this is some sort of joke. Laughter rings in my ears, but it's not me who's laughing. It's you, staring down at me, piercing a hole through my heart the size of the moon, laughing so hard the earth shakes. Tell me, Slim, what is it that I've done to deserve this? Have I been chosen to bear the sorrow of a hundred others, so that they may feel happiness? I'm kind of feeling like the proverbial lamb here, all good things that could be mine have been sacrificed for the sake of others. Why me? Should I hold on to faith, and keep hoping and praying? Will that do any good? I mean, it hasn't done any good so far so what's the point, right? I don't know, Slim, I'm just finding it so hard to simply believe in anything right now.