It was supposed to be the perfect evening to make up for what an asshole I had been. It'd been over a month since I flew to London, leaving a note on my side of the bed, somehow finding three words an acceptable explanation. "Gone to London," it said in my sloppy cursive and to London I had gone. I don't know if I had a plan when I left, I just
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[I] adore [you] chica.
See you in planet home.
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I have no words. I'll call...I just...yeah.
Right back to [you].
See you around.
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I love you.
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Stop fucking making me cry.
I love you more.
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I'm taking excellent care of your tie. You'll be very happy to know that I never entered that Avril look-alike contest. The sanctity of your tie remains in tact.
You are certainly missed, dearest Haldir.
Not only will I be wearing your tie, but I'll be wearing it with an impeccably pressed blouse and pair of slacks.
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[Take care.]
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[Even though I knew this was coming, I still wasn't prepared. I <3 you too darn much. But I'll see you around, I'm sure. :-* ]
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The love I have for you is intense and no matter what endeavors I take on in life, I'll be carrying a little piece of you with me. I adore you.
[You were one of the first to embrace me here. For that, I'll always be grateful. I <3 you to absolute pieces. I'll see you on the flipside.]
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Many the nights you crossed my door and many more you ended up crashed out on my floor and it pains me to know I won't be stepping over your stoned, prone body anytime soon.
We'll always have the bong hits. The absinthe. The time I beat the shit out of Ben. The late night talks. Angst aplenty. You know where I am if you need me or anything else for that matter.
Pourin' one out for my deleting homies. Damn you, God. Damn you.
Take care of yourself.
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You lovable insomniac, my boy in half drag. My adoration for you is limitless. Sometimes I wonder how you can be so brilliant without being absolutely insane. Thank you for every pep-talk, word of wisdom, line of white lady and nauseating story of your childhood memories of Creedence Clearwater.
Double goes for you, man.
One for my homies left behind in dat gangsta lean. Fuh sho.
You too.
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