Hello Richie,
I hope you're doing well. I'm sad you couldn't make it to Beverly's 7th birthday, she misses you Richie. I miss you Richie. At least twice a day I think about dropping everything and going to LA to see you. I got a therapist like you told me to. She diagnosed me PTSD, OCD and anxiety. I'm glad I know what's wrong with me. I haven't told Myra about my frequent therapy sessions. She thinks mental illness is a sin and a sign from god that they're going to hell. It's bullshit. I love you Richie. Write back soon.
Love,
Eddie
~
Richie stared down at the letter. His hands shook with anger. How dare Myra think thay something Eddie can't control is a sin. Eddie shouldn't have to hide his problems from his wife. Richie groaned and set down the letter before he accidently ripes it in half.
Richie splashed cold water onto his face until he cooled down.
~
Dear Eddie,
I'm doing okay, thanks for asking. I'm glad you finally went to theraoy, you needed it. With the whole Myra situation... She needs to stop being so fucking stupid. That sounds really aggressive, but I mean it. She can't judge you over something you can't control. She needs to mind her fucking buisness. I miss you too Eds. I wish I could make it to Bev's party. Tell her uncle Richie said hi! Love you Eds.
Love,
Richie
-GROOVYLADY
