I had a dream last night that you suffered a terrible infection in your left leg and it had to be amputated. You were fine and wonderful and happy, because that’s who you are; but I was miserable. I watched you bounce around with your artificial leg and crutch; you were so happy and full of joy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being responsible.
We are all tenants of this place, after all. We get born, fuck off for a while, then become something and expect a lot of things, and then we remember that none of that matters, just in time to die. It sounds pretty miserable because it is. I could go on, because there’s much to say, but I refrain, for a time, because I lack the required vitriol; 2016 was a mother fucker.
I just wanted to say, things are weird right now, but I love you and we’re going to be okay. We’re going to be great. Your whole world is so bright and beautiful and happy, and I am just so pleased to live in it with you.