My dear Janie,
Everyday I write letters to you in my head, and I send them off to heaven. I hope they're delivered to you. I think it's about time I start writing them down.
Like any other, all I have are memories. I swore never to love again, but I did break that. Not that kind of love, but love for friends. I do love one girl though, not the way I loved you. I intend not to die in love, or alone, my plans are to fade away with the people I've met over my time, or, my friends. I'll walk this lonely earth forever bearing the brand of crime I committed.
I'm sorry I murdered you. I truly am.
I've been playing guitar again. I thought I never would. I gave up that dream of being in a band. Being in a band sucks, period. I play bass for the church here for one reason, there aren't any drunk fuckwits that abuse their kids primary needs all night. I may not like kids, but I cannot let them sit at a bar all night with drunken morons. Somehow, all that falls back on me, and the parents threaten me for allowing the kids to sit on my stage.
I'm currently passing along my advice at the Harbour Lights Center in Minneapolis. Gotta start somewhere.
I'll write when I get a chance again. I'm going to have to purchase some form of stationary.
B.L
Again, I'm sorry.
