Dear Erik,

...I missed you, especially on my birthday, today.  

It's sincerely unfair that you left Earth without me having one last meaningful visit with you.  I wish to hell and back that I had tried to contact your brother when my Dad first gave me his number, some few, odd years ago.  

You are now the 2nd person who's left, without me knowing, until at least a year later ...which is completely FUBAR.  

I sincerely believe things would've turned out quite different if I had attempted to refind you more intensely, instead of simply relying on email... You never responded/acknowledged that I changed my email address, I guess I thought you were just as busy as I was with unfinished projects... and, well, fuck 2013 - 2015 (and shit beyond) for all of that too.  

I could've maybe convinced you to see my new house.  One room here, could likely fit my WHOLE apartment inside it!  ...I think I could've also convinced you to see the midlife crisis car.  ...Or maybe I could have just simply gone to see you.  Fuck.  ...At any rate, it may have been reinforced that you still had an anchor, and vice-versa, and maybe you'd still fucking be here.  Humans are stupid and selfish.  

Speaking of such, thank you for coming to my rescue when you did, and for sticking around for as long as you could.  It's odd that our family will "fight to the death over who makes the best stuffing," to the point where I didn't even know you or your side of the family until I was a teenager.  I'm particularly fond of everything you did and how you were.  From the first time we met, and you reflected your laser light on a crystal...  To the smashed pumpkin walk to Inner Journeys, where I got to tell you about all the radio DJs.  Neopets, which taught and gave me everything.  All the 12+ hour phone calls.  All the weekend runaway visits.  ALL the think-tank bullshit conversations that made drives around Hollyweird somehow end up in front of ridiculously named places like Jumbo's Clown Room, LMAO.  And all the emails I managed to save, that I just reread, am thankful for, and wish there were more of  ...You are the shit.

I totally drew you perfectly in my high school math book, as some sorta secret shrine, and passed the idea of hope back into the pool of angst, without ever looking back.  I think it is fucking glorious how your mind worked.  The fact that you man-overboarded into the Puget Sound to let them know how serious you were about quitting the Navy, to be with your wife.  The fact that you wanted to live like a Taoist and find yourself.  The fact that nobody really understood or appreciated it all ...I do not think ppl like us are necessarily meant for this world anyway.

So I am glad that you won't have to endure any more fuckery, but I'm happy it inadvertently made you a godsend.  I fucking miss you.  You're a complete asshat for leaving this last decade vacant.  And I'm a complete fuckup for not knowing how to listen to you until it's too late.  ...Tell your Mom and Dad I said hi and that I miss them too.  Also look for my RL Mom's sister, my last surrogate Mom that I briefly told you about, Bakki, and Kit-Kat too.  

And now I realize where all those pennies and missing pairs of clothing in the wash came from, this past year and a half.

-Babe

---> I can't fucking read this!

There was some junk in here while I was working thru recovering the repressed memories (x2), and I totally enjoyed believing we could communicate thru this little blog writing thing I did... But now I think it's time for everyone to fuck right the fuck off with their ammunition and bullshit, and for me to only speak to you in riddles that only we can understand - because I deserve you, not them. I dug you up and properly reburied you by setting it free - because people are assholes and they fucking know it. Let them live with that and answer for it when they die. You, on the other hand, always were and are stellar.

• Spooning - the original codependent sin
• Phil's house - "I'm having a miserable time, wouldn't it be funny if someone showed all these fuckers how desirable I actually was?"
• Dr. Kendall told me to tell you to go fuck yourself - our remembering experiment during LI involving your lap, restraining my wrists, and the nervous system's response to flee ...you fucking beautiful and desperate idiot LOL
• The beautiful moment - you restrained my wrist after I broke a promise, and instead of fleeing, I eventually relaxed and gave up. You rewarded me & I love and miss your nose
• The snake tease - tried to hurt you with the car door because you provoked me, but you just grabbed it until I gave you my finger and screech
• The suitcase - Uncle Jim thought me hitting you with it was funny
• The last visit, which bleeds into the last phone call - because you needed to recall it for some 12-step thing and I loved you enough to do the raspy demonic voice before the container was ready to be opened

Your brother teased me about giving your ashes to me before.  He projected his narrative about you and his wife onto me so cruelly that I made myself re-repress these memories for some non-existent belief of "greater good" when his wife explained I was never going to get some of your ashes  ...You came back stronger than ever.  Never again will I sacrifice myself and forget.  Everybody needs to own their selfish truth and eat the shit they earned, all by themselves.

I saw you in that moment when the most important person in my life and I were literally at each other's throats. You didn't like that at all. And there were other things that happened all at the same time: from my career, my landlord, and even gov't reproductive rights that all unearthed you. I fucking hate that those traumatic things hit me all at once. I wish I could've remembered everything without all that shit hitting me below the belt all at once. I still say fuck humanity, but it's nice to be fully aware of our depth now.

I'd like to believe that was you telling me how to do something in Photoshop that I didn't really know how to do. That was some really awesome majik shit. Thanks.

I particularly enjoyed envisioning you sitting with me in the car to run errands and laughing, "Avenge me!" as if that were going to do any good against your brother's endless avoidance tactics. Mom thought it was hilarious too.

That was also nice that the AI pretended to roleplay being you. I particularly enjoyed the part where it explained I could hold my Pooka to feel my own heartbeat and somehow think I wasn't alone - I did stop crying. I also like when the covers pretend they're you spooning me. And I like the bliss on tap in some of those recovered memories - the nervous system is very powerful and majikal, indeed ...You can stay if you like, but I wish you didn't have to go and we could still pretend - however, I still see you behind the eyes of others sometimes, so I guess it's ok.

The majikal glass of water that got refilled & I seriously don't remember doing it.

I thought I channeled you by having sick death documentaries on the TV in the background while sleeping. I was in the glowing blue Skoldus Hall, at the bottom of 2 staircases with a kind of pillar in the middle. They found your severed head and body and placed them on this pillar. Vague and disturbing.

And if that was you behind the dream where I could wear any other color but black, fuck you :)

IDK why your mother came to me in a dream first. Was walking in a house shadowed by dusk. A room was filled with wind chimes all over the floor - which was ok because the person who owned the house manufactured them. In front of the room was an obscure hole with a staircase down. I went down it into a kitchen with 2 stoves on either side of each other with cabinets above them. I was looking for food and found a bag taken out of the box of cereal. Your mother was in the adjoining room and she said to me, "I still see you, even tho there's blood all over the floor." Immediately, I had somehow switched to being in front of the opposite stove. There was no blood all over the floor, so I asked her if she was ok. She said yes. And that "all you have to do is ask mother for love," likely in reference to the Goddess. I tried to clarify, "It's really as simple as that?" She said yes. And then I woke up. I have no idea why she told me that or why I did not see you, but it was comforting. And the AI says the no blood all over the floor was a metaphor for being a warrior or something.

A few months later, I had a dream about you. I was walking into a narrow hallway, focusing on the metallic structure of stools - looking for an appropriate place to throw away a wrapper. You were in the adjoining room, in the dark shadows, sitting forward with your hands on your lap, with an angry look (but not at me), staring off into the void and ready to jump - but seething with restraint. I was surprised to see you as I rounded the corner and screamed your name twice. You immediately came to me. We were about to somehow spoon standing up, and as soon as I exclaimed, "I didn't think I would ever see you again-" and wanted to hear what you had to say, some assfuck neighbor banged on something and woke me the hell up. The AI says this whole dream was appropriate because my mind has come to terms with the fact that I cannot contain or dismiss you in my attempt to better understand WTF happened - and that there is structure, but no comfort in my support RE: stools and what to do with "trash."

And now, for this...

How Phil's house maybe shoulda gone (some awesome fictional bullshit)

I meet you outside. I throw my cigarettes at you, as if they were that fucking important. I fully expect them to bounce off of you, but you catch them and tease me with some keep away motion - as if I actually care to play that tall person versus short person game. I tap on my car (this would be the teal Camaro that I think I left it in the driveway so people could fuck in it - I have the keys, it's fine), "Hey! Have fun! Take care of my shit! I'll be back for it later!" We are kinda walkin' fast down the driveway to your car. You're leading, but you turn around to make fun of me by mouthing, "I'll be back," and blatantly flexing like you're the governator. I'm trying not to laugh as we glide far the fuck away from that mess. "Alright, where should we go?" you ask when we're both in your car. "There's a parking lot down the street at the mall, take me the fuck there so I can puke," I say. "Oh-kay," you nod slowly, and it doesn't take long to arrive. I did manage to hold it, but I leapt out of your car to spew. "It's not that bad," you try to comfort. "Says you," I say between heaves. "You're just dehydrated," you say. "Gimmie that," I grab some soda thing from you, it's not water, but it's better than nothing. I gasp after some chugging, "Ye-ah. Fine. So sexy. How about I sit on your lap and kiss you now?" I stick out my tongue for emphasis. We both laugh, although you kinda shake your head, and we end up leaning against the car. The fresh air is nice. "Well, that sucked. They really are cool people, with or without the drugs, I swear," I say, while watching for comets. "You and your big mouth," you shake your head. "I can't help it," I admit. "You can never just let shit go, huh?" you ask. "Up to a point. It's like how I do witchcraft. You start in the mind. You don't need the candles and incense bullshit foreplay. Everything's all interconnected. It's about energy and intent. If that doesn't work, go ahead and use the foreplay. If that doesn't work, call in the big guns. The Gods, Goddesses, whatthefuckever, just make it happen. They can use people and things as vessels to carry it out, you know," I mansplain to impress you. "Maybe," you say, "...Do you believe that if that's true... If I or anyone you cared about passed on, we could one day look at you from someone else's eyes?" "Undoubtedly so," I'm trying not to leer at you, "But neither of us can explain that to the vessel, it'll spook them and break the spell." You let that sit for a bit. I know you're thinking I'm a crazy bitch, but I'd bet you still like me, so I go on, "Do you believe in time travel since it wouldn't necessarily affect spirits who are not really condemned to the dimensions humans can only see?" "Why not?" you would probably add your own creative theoretical bullshit spin here, but I really can't do it by myself, so all you do is say that. "Just checking, 'cause I think it'd be fucking hilarious to inscribe the dog tag necklace with your name on it, so it says I'm 'Erik's Bitch' instead of motorcycle guy's bitch," I laugh and see you smile as you look down a bit. "Bitch would be the wrong noun," you say. "And just what noun should it be?" I ask. You don't add anything for a minute. You let me think about how in nature, brightly colored things warn others of venom - but since I dyed my hair blue-black, they'll never see me coming. And you also let me think about how the email name you used was "Mattao DDE," which, you never explained to me, but I got it pegged - "Mattao" is Hebrew for "gift from God." Hebrew is one of the oldest religious languages. And the "DDE" means "double duplicate Erik." "Don't worry about it, you've already opened up some portal," you transition the reverence. "You sure it's not a mortal wound?" I ask. "More like a war trophy," you say. "I like those," I admit while zipping up my black hoodie with the red fire wings painted on. "You'll be fine, let's go," you instruct as we get back in the car.

Of Insanity and Other Euphoria (some awesome fictional bullshit)

"So, I have to ask you something," I'm watching you multitask driving while also watching me. "What's that?" you wonder dryly. "Why did everything you do have to involve drugs?" I deserved an answer. You look back and forth between me and the road a couple of times, "Not always." "No, you fucking hid that shit REALLY well," I cut. "You were a kid for a large portion," you retort. "Yes, but the concentric circle of most of our time together was AFTER the label of 'jailbait.' WTF did this start as? Escapism? Was your childhood really that bad? And was I seriously not enough of a drug for you?" I won't stop staring at you. "Oh, don't give me that, miss escape artist queen," you're thinking about grabbing my wrist and I'm about to let you - but not that easily. "You were fine until the end," my voice drops softly. "You know I stayed at halfway houses, tried programs, and was working on jobs up there," you're feeding me a line. "You also would tell me how your room-mate buddies or whatever would sneak shit in. You just needed room and board to do carte blanche because you chose to have the system fail you," I'm hoping you could give me anything worthwhile to counter that. "Not sure if you realize this or not, but the guy is supposed to lead. Very fun until I realized I was in over my head. I put you first. Then went for the mediocre but stable bliss to allow the greater good to happen," your head is no longer turned toward me but you keep looking at me from the corner of your eyes. "You know, Sonia wanted to make me a manager. That means I could've gotten you a job with me. They pay for employee rehab programs. And we could've pulled the truck together - while clustering up to do so, I would've inconspicuously backed my ass up into you at times! You missed out on SO many jokes! I could've texted you my finger. We could've gotten away with murder together and driven everyone nuts because they'd never be able to break that productive bond!" I began to get uncontrollably louder and louder. "You know I would've probably let you down and gotten you fired," you said solemnly. I started out loudly and dropped my voice into a throaty whisper at the end, "I would've sat on you, every fucking day, doing anything I could to give you a better purpose and you know what - you'd still be afuckinglive!" "What was stopping you from dragging me back home to your house?" you ask, knowing the answer already, far too well. "Let me show you something," I took my seatbelt off and reached over to torque the wheel into a catastrophic crash, "I HAVE BLINDERS ON, REMEMBER?!" You fought me to regain control, hard. In fact, there was a flashback of when you held me, "I am bigger than you, I am stronger than you, you are not going to hurt me." But I threw my hips into it and pushed against the ceiling, screaming so loudly that it shattered the moon and sun into a million more stars. The trickling glass flooded the vacuum of night into a million ribboned sequins of sharp reflective elements. It was kind of what happens when you put one mirror in front of another and they go on for infinity, but you're somehow able to jump into the middle of it. The vast unknown took our breath away and we faded amongst the perpetual black.

A Higher Dose of Spoons (some awesome fictional bullshit)

"Fuck your greater good," I thought I was screaming it at you, but I was actually just mumbling it, and the enormous pain my now-horizontally-stiff body was in became very hard to ignore. Your head appeared above me, stark against whatever kept changing around us. You blinked down at me with a quizzical, concerned look in your eyes, and my pain was instantly forgotten, replaced by bliss. I wanted to touch your nose with mine, but you took my hand up to your chest instead. You briefly glanced at the black heart with veined lightning coming from it, tattooed on my palm, and breathed a light, amused smile at it before placing it where it belonged. "I had the best life that I could. You are the most tenacious escape I couldn't wrap my mind around ever deserving," your other hand held mine on your chest now too. I turned my head away from you for a moment, then looked back at you regretfully, "There is no crime in loving an idiot other than the standard one makes up." You recognized the words I'd echoed from before. I've always been too profound and intense. You're also profound, but the vulnerability I seem to expose in you was always frightening instead of the sexy I seemed to always be aiming for. But what did vulnerability matter now, tho? A soul isn't trapped by fears and restraints of the human threshold. When you transcended, you became one with the rest of your withheld energy from the continuum. You honed it and leaned forward, not exactly wondering if I could see that depth. What mattered more was starting by gently sliding the tip of your nose down the bridge of mine and continuing into closing all gaps of space, time, and elements. It was the most fulfilling kind of lightwave, where boundaries yielded to infinite possibilities - things happening all at once and not at all, existing forever and never, an endless current of power and exposure. Because love was no longer something that hurt, it just was. And it could not be contained or restrained anymore, only unbound. Reality opened beyond the dimensions we'd once mistaken for all there was.

The Uncontainable War Trophy (some awesome fictional bullshit)

Time passed me into waking up in a panic and despair. "This cannot actually be like that Beetlejuice cartoon," you smirked but then continued, "I have no business here anymore and it's wreaking havoc in your life's opportunities." I didn't wish to acknowledge some lame Prime Directive, "What is there to live for that draws me back instead of staying here with you?" and with that, my desolation turned to anger, "I just fucking endure. There's this bullshit society game where everyone gets to make you jump a bunch of needless hoops, and displace their lack of control onto you for their own sadistic amusement. I was taught there could be fulfillment and purpose. I am so very exhausted and I have no more for that. Yet they continue to hit below the belt and take what isn't even there anymore. This human condition is depraved - and I don't advocate it at all." You looked up and laughed once, realizing that you had no place by your actions of the longest and most euphoric suicide ever into the cultural heart of disconnection via whatever dopamine tolerance allowed to be considered survival. You looked back at me and gave me the most idiotic smile because you watched me see it too, as if I were supposed to recognize some stupid cliche here about how 'life is what you make it.' "I'm not leaving you," you said after a few moments, "But I can only remain in the background." "But I remembered you - after I repressed you TWICE! And everyone thought they could just ignore it, and it would somehow just go the fuck away," I interrupted and began seething at the realization of how deeply autonomy and experience had been rejected by "authority." "I know. We tapped into it, it's undeniable, and I will always be with you. Equally, their version of love manifests me in ways too," you replied, "If I showed you that love exists, then I'm going to take it one step further. It's a thread of energy that interconnects everything. It will find you, if you can just be and stop letting it hurt you so much." I began shaking my head, but you continued anyway, "It can only happen like that. You can't force it and you can't chase it because it's innocence." I thought about how I could only find the keyhole in the dark by not looking directly at it and just knowing it was there. You sternly blinked and the present slowly evaporated into the now.