Because I'm Not Normal

  So, I relapsed. Well, fuck. I keep asking myself why. However, after spending a large majority of my day talking to friends and going to a meeting, I've come to a conclusion. I'm not a failure, I'm not a worthless piece of shit, and I'm not a waste of space. I'm just an alcoholic and an addict. I will always be this way. I will never be able to go out (or stay in) and have a couple of drinks or do anything else that will change my head without overdoing it. Because I'm not normal, and you know what? I'm not ashamed of that. If you're riding on my same ship, you understand. For the rest of you, I'm sorry if you've been part of the unfortunate wreckage we can cause. We really do love you, we just don't always love ourselves.
  Today is day one. I would like to promise that I'll maintain perfect sobriety for the rest of my life, but that's not how it works. All I have is today, and I am working really hard on tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and the next.... Oh, fuck off, go have dinner or something. I'm gonna go back to not being normal.

Perfection

 There's this guy. I call him my husband. He's sleeping right  now. I never sleep well. My mind runs a million miles per second. That is why I write. Sometimes, I look at him and think....
    You're perfect.
You're perfect for me. You get on my last nerve. You exhaust me. I hate you. You hate me. Nah,just kidding. We're in love.. We argue over the most ridiculous things. Then we smile and make jokes later, because we both know we're wrong. 
    I'm staring at you right now. We just made love a couple of hours ago, It wasn't perfect, not like in the movies. But what in life is? You really want to know what it was like? It was us, just us. It was perfect. In that moment, we looked into each others eyes and nothing else mattered.
I love you. I'm going to crawl into bed soon. I'll fall asleep and snore, you'll make fun of me tomorrow ,I'll probably get mad at you. Then we'll bicker, and eventually smile , joke, and laugh again.  Absolute fucking perfection. Get used to it, this shit is forever.

Dear Granny

Dear Granny,
I miss you. I miss you like it was yesterday. I don't like remembering the day you passed, but you were always practical, so I'm sure you would tell me to go ahead and talk about it.
It's strange, I don't talk about you that much. I don't know why, because, I think about you every day. You and Grandpa were such a huge part of my life. I don't think I would've had the life I have now if it hadn't been for you. So, here's the part where I get sentimental.
Granny, I miss your smell. You always smelled like those little Avon lipstick samples and something akin to potpourri, but not quite. I remember sitting at your vanity at the foot of your bed with the immaculate chenille bedspread, and thinking that I would be just like you when I grew up. I remember playing pretend in the pantry. All the canned okra, peaches, tomatoes, apricots, berries and everything else. I remember walnut season. Grandpa was a something, wasn't he? Picking the walnuts, shucking the walnuts. Going back to school and being so embarrassed about my nails being stained black. It was dirty work in my mind, at the time.
So many memories in that little house on the corner of Olive and Newcomb St in Porterville
The day you passed, a little part of me did, as well. The day Grandpa passed was also hard. However, we're doing well. Sam has a son, his name is Benjamin Ira Kirby. You'd adore Sams girlfriend. Actually, that doesn't sound good enough. Kalindi is my sister in law, and the proud mother of your great great grandchild. She's amazing, Bens amazing, Sams amazing, the whole Kirby Rogers clan is amazing! . I recently got married to the love of my life, his name is Peter. I was married once before, and in a few other relationships. But you once told me when I was ten, that sometimes, you have more than one great love, but you only have one true love. Well Granny, I found my true love.  We'll be trying for a baby after the new year, and if it's a girl, she'll have your name as a middle name. I digress. Sam has a bachelors degree, he graduated from Humboldt State with honors, and he is an amazing artist. I went to Cosmetology school, and I'm now licensed and working in the industry. There is so much else, but I will save it for another letter. I hope you're proud of us. Give Grandpa a hug from us
Love always,
Sarah Kirby Lopez

How Could You?

Dammit, Javier! I hate you right now. It keeps hitting me right upside the head that you're gone. Just out of nowhere . And then I start bawling. How could you be so stupid? Do you have any idea how much pain your stupid fucking choices have caused? Dude, I don't think you're Mama's ever going to get over it. She's not doing too good, bro. It's aging her a little every day. She's just so damn sad. I can't really compare my pain to hers, but it still hurts pretty bad. I'm so mad at you. Do you have any idea how ugly I am when I cry?
I just miss you. We all do. No amount of wishing, crying, or being angry is going to bring you back, though. So, I guess I'll just deal with it. I love you, you asshole.

Why

Why? Why I am always doubting myself?
I am constantly thinking that I am too fat, that I have too many pimples, that I suck at my job, that I'm ugly. What the fuck? None of that is true. Why do I think that? I spent most of my morning crying, because I felt this way. And it's absolutely untrue. I'm one of the prettiest broads I know. I rock at my job (I'm a hairstylist), and I am just amazing all around. So why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we hate ourselves? Why don't we just love that little bit of jiggle in our wiggle? Why can't we look in the mirror and say, "Damn, that chick is fine"
I am absolutely fucking over it. I'm going to stop asking myself why. Because the answer to that question is,  "Why not?"
No matter what, you're good enough. Regardless of any doubts you may have about yourself, you are a bad bitch . I love you, and you should too. Now, let's go run the world.

Fuck Your Life

Scare of fucking my life. I woke up to someone breaking into my house, and someone standing in my bedroom. I don't understand why, but I somehow turned on my lamp or maybe he did, I don't know, I recognized him. All sucked up, shot out, hollow, like  shell of his former self. Fuck. You're a junkie piece of shit. I always called you Brother, you called me Sis, because we got each other. But you fucked up.
You grabbed my arms,pinned me, and for second, I thought you might do the unimaginable to me, They tell you to stay calm and use a soft voice when facing an attacker. For once in my life, I whispered. I looked into your dead zombie fucking eyes and, said, "Brother, please don't do this"  I said it more than once, maybe three times.I have never been more scared in my life. You reached down, I thought you were going to touch me, It was making my skin crawl. I almost threw up but I  held down the bile, I didn't want to make you more upset. I was terrified at the thought of actually being raped. This would fucking hurt. I kept saying "Brother please, please. We've been through things together. Remember yard duty at St Johns all the fucking leaves we had to rake?"  I finally saw a reflection, maybe a tear. He jumped off and ran. If I owned a gun, I never would have been able to catch a head shot. Who cares? I would have preferred to shoot him in the back. Live like a coward, die like a coward. I don't give a fuck how high you were, I've been there, done that. And I never did anything like the shit you pulled. We were at St John of God together, you met my mother for chrissake. You were my brother from my another mother. Now you break into my home, and nearly violate me? Oh fuck no, you got it twisted
Last time I saw you, was almost two years ago. Gaby and you were clean were clean, she was pregnant.  You called, you and your cousin needed haircuts. I cut hair, played pool, it was fun, that was the **** I will always remember and on the way home, I kept saying how proud I was of both of you. We took pics that night, like a family reunited. I 'm sure they're on my Facebook somewhere. You and your cousin took me home, you shook my husbands hand. Yeah, my husband. We got married recently, and try to lead a normal life. We work hard for everything we have, which is admittedly not much. But ITS OFF LIMITS. OURS NOT YOURS . I'm pissed. How fucking dare you, you lowlife piece of shit? Everyone has given you a million chances. Your family, your sons mother,your other sons mother, everyone expects better. Oh wait, no they don't, they've given up. After rehab, you always would call me to see if I was doing good, because you were sucking at life. I was always there for you no matter what.
But now? You're a fucking bottom feeder. You fucking drain people. You suckle until the tit is dry. Way to go "dad", for going to one whole soccer game.  And child support payments? Who needs them? I can't wait to buy you a fathers day card! Because, you're just the best ever. Gee, why don't you get them a nice card for all the birthdays, soccer matches, mothers days, anniversaries, even Christmases, that you forgot because you're a selfish, self absorbed asshole that was either  fucking loaded or in prison. The fathers day card will be nice and sparkly, and then we'll sign it, "Thanks for being a dick" .
You might wanna keep your head down. You got a surprise coming. Maybe tomorrow, the day after, maybe next week. Who knows? Doesn't the element of surprise just get you excited? Here's a little tasty tid bit for you.... Just found this about an hour ago...... Drum roll please.  You're a fucking pedophile. Lewd and lascivious acts with a minor under 14, 17 counts. That was in Florida. Did you think no one would find out? It's public record you fucking idiot. Only a few bucks to get the info online. What about the THREE. FUCKING. RAPE. AND. SODOMY CHARGES. IN IDAHO. Go team! It would likely be in your best interest to turn yourself in. The authorities might keep you safe. Or maybe, not. Hopefully they get to you before the homies do. Either way, you're quite literally fucked. Do you know how much  inmates hate pedophiles? Do you know what happens to them? I'm sure you do, you've served a couple of terms.
I wanted you to learn . But you don't have it in you. Fuck your life.  I'm not interested in buying your bullshit anymore. I used to love you, but now I would rather watch a speeding train shred you on the track. The way you're going, your life will end in some disgusting gas station bathroom with a fucking needle in your arm, or your neck , slumped over, covered in your own vomit, sitting in some one elses urine. Good luck with that.

Wax

Dear Javi,
I miss you. I'm trying not to get too emotional, because I know you hate when I act like a girl. So, I'll man up and stop crying. However..... I want you to call me again and get on my nerves because you want me to walk to AMPM with you. I want to hear you call me your only "seester"  again, I want you to ask me why I wear so much makeup and tell me that I have a big head one more time. But that's not going to happen. You're gone, permanently, you're never coming back.
  You would have hated the funeral. You were on display like an object, not like a person. Two weeks had passed. I feel like they should have laid you to rest long before, but, I don't call the shots. I sat next to your mama, she is so strong, she barely shed a tear while she was sitting there looking at her first born child in a casket. And then I had to get up, because it was my turn to speak. I got up there and spoke with you right behind me in that fucking wooden box wearing the clothes that I had picked out for you. I said some nice things about you, because you're my brother from another mother, I don't remember exactly what I said, it's kind of a blur.
You should be proud of me,I didn't fall apart. Well, maybe a little.  Because, I don't know exactly why people do this, but everyone walks past the casket, paying there last respects. Everyone was touching you, and I thought to myself, "Oh hell no! I'm not even going to look, let alone touch him" But when I walked past, I couldn't help myself. I leaned down and kissed your cheek. Your skin felt like wax. Like really cold, hard wax.  I will never forget the way it felt. Just like I will never forget you.
You made some bad choices,and one final stupid mistake, but you certainly did not deserve to die the way you did.
Just so you know, I'm still mad at you. I know I'm being selfish, but what the fuck am I supposed to do without you?  Little things remind me of you, like a song or a smell. My grief ebbs and flows, just like the ocean. Sometimes it seems like I'm drowning, and sometimes I'm just getting my ankles wet. There is a place in my heart where you will always live. And that place will never go away. I will visit you there from time to time. There is one thing I know for sure, I will see you again someday, my friend.
Love always,
Sarah
P. S. You still owe me $10