Slow Changes (Whizzvin)

Part XXIV. Whizzer Wrote Too

Whizzer didn't keep a journal, he wrote letters. Every time he missed Marvin, he wrote it down. He wrote down every detail. Every time he was horribly depressed, he wrote a letter and put it in a grey box. Whizzer feels like shit, so he decides to look in the box.

This chapter is depressing. Very depressing. Pure angst. I'm going to make this as angsty as possible because I'm a bitch and I like seeing other people suffer. Read at your own risk. Also alcohol and drug use. And sex as a coping mechanism. Melanie was all like "Whizzer isn't a coke addict." but we all know he's bouncy for a reason.

(Sidenote: I use letters to get feelings across in my writing. Point of View writing constantly can get boring, but I'm sorry if I'm annoying you with my letter chapters things! I'll make a point of view chapter next!)

Whizzer's Point of View: 2:07am, June 29th, 1980.

The box was small. Textured. Grey. Boring. Blank. Dull. But not empty. It was a simple box. But everything inside it wasn't simple. Everything inside it was... My life story. Well, my life post-Marvin. I took the lid off the box and dusted it off. I unraveled the first letter. The day of the breakup.

"Dear Marvin Asshole Fraser,

You left me today. You left me. I never wanted to love you. And I'm glad I never will again. You hurt me. I had to get that injury treated, actually. The suitcase cut my leg so I had to get stitches! And it's all because you're full of yourself, hon.

Sincerely, Whizzer"

I was going to send him these one day. Show him how much of a wreck he made me. Show him how much he hurt me. But I decided against it.

"Dear Marvin,

I miss you. I miss you so much. Bars are so lonely without you. I love you. I love you so much. I just did coke in the back of the bar with some random stranger. I love you so much. I don't want to lose you and I know I already have. I know you're gone. I know you'll never come back. I loved you. All our laughs. They were rare, but they mattered. You mattered to me.

Love, Whizzer"

The page was tear stained. That was the first time I'd ever done drugs. And I loved and hated it. It became a 2 month long addiction. I never talk about it. I want to shred the paper, but it has sentimental value. I want Marvin. I want Marvin back to look at these with me and hold me and tell me it's all okay.

The next letter is the most depressing yet. The one that's probably going to be the last letter I look at. The letter I wrote yesterday. About all of my bottled up feelings. About everything I felt towards him.

"Dear Marvin Fraser,

Today was bad. Today was worse than when you threw me out. I see couples now and I think "I could've been like this with Marvin." I can't look at couples anymore. That was your impact on me. Good job. You broke me.

Marvin, I tried to last night. I really did. Because I thought that if I tried hard enough and actually did it, I would get you back. The pain would ease. I wouldn't get you back, but I would not not have you. You wouldn't attend the service, but I really thought of doing it.

You tear me down to help your ego. Your love for yourself. And only you. Your egocentrism. Your angst-filled, everyone-hating heart. I don't know why you were with me. You should've just thrown me out on the street when you had the chance. Like my parents.

Marvin, I was going to marry you one day. We would start a family. The tight-knit family you're always bitching about. The one you always wanted. With me. The guy you met and instantly fell in love with. Or were you ever even in love with me? Were you just pretending? Was our relationship to mock me? I don't know at this point. All I know is that you're a bitch.

I fell for you hard. We were together for 9 months. Then you left me. And I'm fine with it. Because I'm fine with living with Trina. This is my last step of letting go of you."

And that's when I burned the letters outside in Mendel and Trina's backyard. I'm done with him. I'm over him. And that was all that I needed. To be over this guy. Because he might never change. He might slowly change, but I have to let go of him for the time being.

Trina walked outside. "What're you burning? Is that..." She counted. "13 pieces of paper? All with notes on them?" I smiled at her. "Yes, and?" Trina watched the fire with me. "Fire looks nice. I could burn a few people's houses down, but I'm not that insane! Not yet, at least." I didn't know whether I should or shouldn't fear for my life due to a middle aged suburban mom.

"I love that shirt. Where'd you get it?" I loved it. It was pink which was her favorite color (and mine). She smiled and giggled. "Well I got it at a flea market-type store! The one a couple of miles away." A flea market shirt? Holy shit. It's good for a flea market shirt. "Most flea market shirts belonged to pudgy 50-year-old Baptist church members who bake cookies for potluck. I love that shirt."

"Thank you! So what're the papers burning in the fire?" Sure, she was going to ask this question. "Letters I wrote to Marvin from our breakup to now. Finally letting go of him." Trina was shocked that I hadn't let go of him sooner. You could tell it in her gasp. "So you're over him now? It's been a long time, Whiz... You must've really liked my ex. I mean the sex was good-"

She thought I stayed with him for the sex. I love that for her. "Honey, it wasn't for the sex. It was at first but-" She nodded and we watched the fire for about 5 and a half minutes. We bonded for no reason and I love how we really connect. She's an amazing friend and a fashion icon. That shirt paired with those shoes- Amazing.

A/N: 1090 words! (: