Sometimes it’s hard at look at you. Not you, your face, I mean your pictures. Yes on stupid Facebook and emails and whatever. I see all these people commenting on you, on your eyes, your curves, your pretty face, and all I can feel is jealousy that I wasn’t there. I didn’t keep track of the past few months saw no need for it. And even so, I don’t think you would ever take the-
I’m lashing out at you. Better for me to do it here than to do it with you to your face. Maybe I’ll post this up on letters I‘ll never send. Maybe I should mail this to you in 50 years. Just save it and hide it, slip it under the life insurance papers.
Maybe this is my karma, my human revolution to undertake. I can only hope you’ll always be here like you promise you will. I dunno how much longer my looks are going to captivate the hearts of younger guys. I love you, but c’mon, I’ve gotta look out for myself too.