I don't really do daylogs, but I've read these letters so many times in the last day I figured it was worth posting somewhere. I hate emotions, nostalgia, and all of those damn feelings that make you feel old, helpless, and alone. Life goes by so fast, it seems. I wish I had more memories of love. I wish I could accept more people into my life, but scar tissue heals so tough, and it's always too sensitive to let someone touch.
Sandra,
Today we commemorate your entrance into this world 21 years ago. Over the last seven years (
gawd that number sounds insane), I know I personally have grown very fond of your existance in this world. Without you I wouldn't be who am today. Not that I am anyone important, cool, or remotely interesting, but we did grow together physically and emotionally through high school in a very literal way. When i met you we were two teens that just wanted to be ourselves, and I think we succeeded at this. I know you have influenced who I am, how I act, and what I think just by being in your proximity. For this I am very thankful.
As I think you know, I've never really had a positive female relationship in my life aside from you. My mother left me, while cussing and screaming, as a prepubescent, and my sister has always been self-serving and headed in that direction up until she finally did go. You are very much the only reason I believe in women, in relationships, in love. While we've not been very close in any way over the last several years, you still have a huge place in my heart and in my mind. You're like family to me,
Sandra, but you're so much better. You've never been forced to like me. You've never left me: at least not like I have been left before.
So today I thank you, your parents, and what ever divine forces there might be out there for you being brought into the world and being alive, the person that you are, today. Thank you,
Sandra. Thank you for everything and anything. I hope you're having the time of your life half a world away from me. I hope I get to see you when you return next month. Be well.
Love you,
ciabatta face,
Patrick Dougherty
Patawick
taco breath...
You made me cry. You really did. Thank goodness, my friend
Allison, was
sitting next to me... she gave me birthday hugs and a chocolate fish
and I felt much better.
Patrick, you are absolutely without a doubt one of my bestest friends.
I
haven't seen you much through college but I never question our
relationship and I never worry that you won't be there for me when I
need you. I never need an excuse to come to your rescue if you were to
ever need anything and I will never change in my devotion to our
friendship.
As a woman in your life, I will never leave you.
You were the coolest kid in highschool and really helped me be myself.
And every once in a while, I recount to a new friend about my crazy bud
who wore a scuba suit to school or a dust janitor suit... or put army
men around the school... any crazy story. You still come up and then I
take a minute to remember fondly.
It is always with fondness, Pat. And
nostalgia.
Thank you for everything, Patrick. Your friendship, your hilarious
acts, our great stories,
cookies and jeeps in parkinglots at 4 am and
getting kicked out of Home Depot. You will always be one of my
favorite people.
Love,
Sandra