Letters

A Letter to A Great Friend

  I'm always so scared the at you secretly hate me. And of you do, don't you want me to go?? Dint you want me to leave alone? Who would want to hang out with a gross junkie likeq me? Who would like me? Why?
  Why would you ever even like me?
He'll, I'm sitting outside, in the cold darkness with a beer in one hand, wondering if I should just rid you of my existence altogether. You wouldn't miss me. Even if you did cry, you'd forget about me eventually. Everoyone forgwtz about Mr. Maybe that's why I'm always the friend to be pushed off the sidewalk, forced to walk behind everyone. Maybe that's why I'm th e gross alcoholic to make fun of all the time in our group. But why? Why do I even ducking bother? What's the point anymore?