You Sick Fuck (666 LUCK)

[11] JS: Beginning

Beginning.

[JS FOREVER]

Jimmy,

I’m writing while you’re downstairs washing the dishes and I’m in bed. Our bed. I don’t like the idea of leaving it to just be yours - I’ve always been a narcissistic bastard, haven’t I? I don’t know if you’re reading this while I’m still here or if I’ve already left, but I hope it’s the latter because the other is just too embarrassing. I’m really scared, Jimmy. And I know you’re scared too, but I’m really, really fucking scared, and the intention of this letter wasn’t to make you feel bad or anything, but I just realized that I’m writing a letter to you after I die, which will happen soon, I think. And that’s scary. But the scariest part isn’t exactly dying. It’s leaving you behind. I don’t want to leave you behind to fend for yourself. I have to say it now, though, because it’s too hard to tell you about it in person. Try to move forward? Like, I’m not asking you to go out and get laid the moment they lower my coffin into the ground, but just don’t stay in bed for weeks. Or do, if that helps. Just make sure you eat, shower, and feed Ziewor. Don’t do anything stupid. Keep in touch with everyone. They love you, you know.

Before I forget, go give Ziewor a cuddle for me, because I love her too. You said I was brave, but you are the bravest person I know. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I met you and I’ll love you until I die and maybe even after that, if there’s an after, you know, other than rotting in the ground with maggots crawling out of your eye sockets. It’s too much? Sorry, I got carried away. I just can’t stop thinking about death. I’m not scared, except I am, but I’m curious, ’cause what’s next? Peter Pan always said that dying must be the greatest adventure of all, but I’m not so sure. What if there’s no after? What then? You probably expected this to be a horribly sentimental letter with me expressing my undying love for you, and it will be, but not yet. Oh, and now you just walked in on me writing this. Nice. I’ll have to continue again later.

All right. So it’s morning now and I’m going to finish this stupid thing. You’re not wearing a shirt and I can see all your stupid chest. Here’s a secret: I’ll tease you about this until my dying day. By the way, you look hot. You’re making breakfast. Porridge. My favourite. I hope you don’t take offense if I don’t eat a lot of it - I have nothing against your cooking, Hia, I promise. Dying makes it difficult to do so many basic things. I don’t want to die. At least, I think not. I will miss you so much, though, and you know what? Fuck it, even if it’s not there after, I’ll miss you. I will miss you forever and ever and ever and I’m really a little sad right now, because I don’t want you to throw your life away after I’m gone. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU! I want to wrap you in a blanket made of my love. I’ve loved you for 189,216,000 seconds. Haha! I hope you understood the reference. If you don't, my love for you has just diminished a little. (Hint: it’s Puen and Talay)

Don’t worry. I still love you so much that I feel like I explode with it sometimes. I can’t stand how much I love you, I didn’t know I could love someone this much. Thank you. Thank you for changing my life, for teaching me to love myself and being there for me when I was at my best and at my worst. Thanks for putting up with me, thanks for moving in with me, thanks for making me breakfast every morning, thanks for coming into my life. Thanks for being my home away from home from day one. Thank you for being someone I can trust, someone I can love unconditionally, and someone who loves me unconditionally in return. Thanks to you, I believe in soul mates. I could guide you, but you keep me anchored. God. We really are a couple of fools, aren’t we? I hope you and the others make more shows sometime. I know you said you wouldn’t do it without me, but I wouldn’t be offended. I hope you sell a million more boxsets and then more and do fanmeets, I hope you tour again because I know how much you love to perform and I hope you remember me. In a good way. Everything reminds me of you. If you fall in love again, like a lot of people do, just do me a favour. Don’t let it be Mark Pakin. That’s literally all I ask.

Also, don’t cut your hair. Never. Or do it, if that makes you happy. I just want you to be happy. I want you to smile, Jimmy. You are a good person, really good. You can do a lot of good things for good people, Jimmy. You can move mountains, stop seas (no pun intended), change lives. I hope you take advantage of it. Maybe I’ll see you again, in another life or something, where I am the waves and you are the shoreline. There’s some cheesy line about it, but I can’t remember it. Look up, you lazy bum. Maybe I’ll see you again, when I’ve disintegrated and become part of the stars, when I’m apart of the sky and I’m no longer Sea and you will too, but even then I hope it’s not for a long, long time, only after you’ve lived your life to the fullest and traveled and relive it all over again and then some more. After you become a father and a grandfather and maybe even a great grandfather, with all that healthy and silly food you like. After you’ve seen everything you wanted to see and done everything you ever wanted to do and become number one on the Sexiest Men Alive list.

I can’t wait to hear all about it. I love you more than yesterday, but less than tomorrow, Jimmy

Sincerely yours, Sea

Jimmy isn’t crying, except he is, and he’s sad and in pain but he’s so, so fucking happy.

This is a new

Beginning.