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?