Hi there, stranger.
Yeah, stranger. Because you don't know me. How could you? How could you have ever looked up to those stars in your younger years and think this is what you'd become? How could you imagine the joys and terrors, the prides and pratfalls you'd experience? The answer is simple: you never could.
You were once an ambitious and idealistic dilettante who spent his time nose down in a book and mind lost in worlds only you could see. Life turned out to be much more...vicious that you anticipated. But that doesn't mean that you were wrong.
I've lived many lifetimes since last we were together. I've felt loss, success, pride, and pain. I've fallen in love beyond comprehension and then watched her pack her bags and took her to the airport. I have achieved so much more than I ever expected just from doing what I learned and adapted to. I was fortunate enough to meet some truly incredible people along this insane road that we've been sprinting down towards the dusk. I have failed so much of what we expected to do... except for one thing. I have stuck true to our notion of not feeling regret. All the mistakes I've made along the way are for sure decisions I question, but I don't regret them. Every single failure or success is a story. What matters is learning the lesson from each tale.
I can't tell you things will get better. I don't know what my future holds for me. I've lost a lot in the last few years and frankly... I don't know what tomorrow or next Tuesday or next month holds for me. But I can tell you that all the suffering and misery you faced were worth it. I know my strengths and what I have learned over these many years. I know my conviction, and I know that despite all my flaws I try and live with myself in honesty and hope, despite the cynicism.
I've grown detached from the main thing that keeps me connected to you. I don't write anymore. Call it existential apathy or declining creativity or whatever... I don't do what you used to do every single night. I remember those days listening to Miles and just typing away on the Smith & Corona. I remember taking walks to the West Side Highway park just before dawn to listen to Bob Dylan live at Royal Albert Hall in '66 just to feel inspired and then write for hours as the sun crested that undying city behind me. I remember every single sensation I had in our moments.
Yes, I have fallen off the path and am in a place I can't understand. Neither of us would have thought that this many years later, we'd be worse off than when we started. But the point of this little retroactive time capsule is that even in the face of all the loss, all the failure... all the terror, I haven't given up. And despite the pain that you are about to face, know that you're not alone. There are a menagerie of strange, beautiful, weird souls that will have your back no matter what. Not trivial friendship that only works for them: true bastions that stand with you through the best and the worst. Family.
I wish I had advise for you. I'm still trying to figure this shit out myself, so I'm as useful as a cotton candy dildo in this regard. But when I sleep and remember you and who I was... I hope that those lighthouses I have still transmit to you. That you know you're going to be okay. That even if the future is uncertain and your life didn't go to your plan... it is not over.
Remember what makes you... you. Remember what you love and believe in. Remember that your ideals are worth the crucible.
Remember who you are.
Remember.
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