30 Days, 30 Letters- Day 28: Someone That Changed Your Life

Well, the funny thing is you probably don't even know why you're the topic of this letter. 
Ya see, I think there's a small part of you that displays this whole master (me)/ protégé (you)... and maybe I am.
However, I'd be lying if I said you haven't helped me too.


When I met you I was a bit... hostile.
I was trying to find some type of purpose for this mess of a life I've drawn for myself. I was a battered soldier, sleepless- haunted by dreams of dead enemies, and torn because a certain girl that promised me forever ran off with some other guy. Not to mention I couldn't feel anything. 


Then. 
I met you... which was okay. Especially seeing how I had no intention other than to use you for the free rides to and from work. But then I discovered your odd naivete... which piqued my curiosity... but more than that, it brought out a calming demeanor. Why? Because your interest in my conquests helped me envision you doing the same shit- out of some bizarre awe... only to discover that there's more pain involved in mindless sex than glory. That's the last thing I needed: some kid living vicariously through me and driving his life down the shitter as a result. 


So.
I've since abandoned the why I started speaking to you campaign, and we've had our own adventures.  
Maybe that means nothing...or it seems small, but then I think about what could have happened. 
Well, I could have- and probably would have gotten into that fight outside with that dork. Same thing for sleeping with that really slutty girl that worked with us- and ended up with drama, a disease, or worse, (hypothetically) a rape charge. Or... I could have done like I wanted and turned that guy's house into a crime scene when he attempted to steal my iPod. ...however, I could not, because you were there to prevent that. Let's not forget how your rather, cheesy, sappy ass treating of your paramours has somehow imprinted into me.  Oh, you haven't noticed? Yeah, rumor has it- I have a girlfriend now. I haven't had one of those in a long time...and the only thing that's changed for me is my age, my belt size ... oh and like I said. You. Don't feel bad. Nobody else has put that together either. Well... maybe one, but he's always been blessed with the gift of foresight. I mean he did save my life. 


...nevertheless. There you have it. I've brought you into the inner workings of me, and I feel as though you fit perfectly. You were the first of a line of people I began to trust... and I'm fine with that. It turns out... I don't have to be the duplicitous, gloomy and hidden person I was. 
If you need another example, we can bring up how I find that I asked you about that SAME girl and you told me to steer clear, because I'm selling myself short. Maybe that's true... maybe it ain't. 


Either way, it leads into the next letter...

30 Days, 30 Letters- Day 27: The Friendliest Person You Knew for Only One Day

Dear Tom,
I met you on... May 20, 2007. 
Yeah, that was it. I will always remember you because I was going through a particular rough patch when you limped into the bar I served tables at. When I got to you, you told me don't worry about it- and ordered a shot of something clear from the bartender. You called me over, and I pulled out my pad to take your order. 
However, that wasn't your plan. 
You decided to talk to me about me, then you... how you were from Havre, Montana moved to New York and spent 20 years on the NYPD, where you injured your knee. You said that you chose me to talk to because I looked like a 'great believer'...when I asked of what, you replied, "of the impossibilities of life"
Then as you left and I helped you to your cab you told me:
"Let it go. You're doing the things you're supposed to do. Life is playing out the way it's supposed to. The only mistakes are the choices you neglect to acknowledge as things to learn from. Everyone has a purpose. Purpose is life's use of people. No purpose, no use for you. The proof of these things are that you are still alive."


Dude. 
You just don't know how much I needed to hear those words. I've held onto those words and have only gotten better. Thanks to your kind spirit. I hope you are doing great. I don't really regret much in life, but I do regret not being able to show you the kind of love you showed me. Who knows what I would've done to myself or others had you not walked into that bar, that day. 


Keep the faith, 
-Tesco.

30 days, 30 Letters- Day 25: A Person You Know Is Going Through The Worst of Times

note: If you aren't a regular follower of my blogs or twitter, then you couldn't possibly know that one of my closest friends died recently. http://bit.ly/dfqxlP (Hence the interruption of the '30 Days, 30 Letters' with my last blog which was to him. When I started the '30 Days...' I already mapped out who all the letters would go to. However, this one just didn't seem right and I felt I wanted to add another person. so I'm writing to two individuals. You'll see. Thanks. 


Original Letter:

My main man, Spence!


Whatup, G? Shit has sucked for you royally this past year- but you took it in stride and remained a classy dude as you slowly claw your way back to the surface. I only wish you had let me in on the problems, and maybe I could've been more supportive... in my own authoritative, militant way... but what's done is done. I'm so proud of how tough you are. I gotta figure out how I'm gonna scrounge up some funds and hang out with you, but until I do keep your head up, you fuckin' cockaroach. 


-Tesco.






The Alternate Letter:

Oh Bri.

I don't even have anymore words. I've been crying and just beating myself up... but the worst part was seeing you Wednesday night at Irish Times just sitting in the exact stool he sat in just 5 days before... mumbling to yourself over and over, 


"...he was just right here." 


And when I came and sat in the stool next to that one...just as I did with him just 5 days prior... man. UGH. I felt the weight of your burden in that moment. 


And I immediately felt like the weakest man in the universe. 


I just want you to know, that I love ya- and that it will only get better- but it's gonna suck for a while. But like I told you that night... it's not your fault. It's not. 


So please...let's just celebrate his life, and try to cheer up, okay?


Love, me.


Ha. I chose this pic on purpose. We was lovers. LOL.  okay okay... here's a better one. 

Ave Atque Vale - [People never get the flowers while they can still smell them.]

Hey, Dunbar.

Well, we never really established who was going to be 'Santiago' and who was going to be 'Dunbar' did we?
sigh.
This blows.
I don't know why whatever happened happened, but I do know anyone who's ever met you, or hung out with you is a little upset right now.

You were one of the best of us, I'm sitting here- recalling all the crude things we used to laugh at... and then the miscellaneous things like asking Tri-Sarah-Tops to remove her top so that she may wrestle with us.


Sometimes, I felt like you got me. Like we got each other. The core 'we' that we had a hard time showing folk. All those nights you crashed under whatever roof I was staying under, looking up at the ceiling, pondering... discussing the little idiosyncrasies that make us all tick.

I never would've guessed the day I strolled into Madhatter's to hang with Bri, that I'd be meeting one of my future closest boys. I'm still not 100% on how I got the blame for "hooking you two up." Even to this day, despite your constant praise of my straight from the hip advice, I simply thought I was doing her the favor.

Man.

I don't think we had a dull moment. I mean, other than our sporadic attempts at growing up...    

What am I supposed to say?
Remember the dog chase? Remember the police precinct? Remember the gas station bathroom key? Remember meeting Brandon Knight MLB pitcher for the Mets and he gave us front row seats to the next game?
I remember them all. Now, more than ever.

I never got around to meeting your family, and now I never will. I feel bad for never taking the opportunities you gave. Geez, I wonder how they are taking this. 

I find myself oddly in the mood to fix sausages. Of course, because I'm thinking about us- and it's four in the morning. What better time to fry up meat shirtless?

Later today, I may dig out my old CDs- listen to some of The Prodigy, or Crystal Method hell, I may have to throw in some 2 Live Crew and other various Miami bass mixes. Of course, the listening will be accompanied with a vodka/soda. 

...yeah.

Bri's a wreck. I feel bad for ever getting you in trouble with her. 

I wish I had at least told you I loved ya. Even once. As guys we aren't really big on this act- yet it's easy for us to fall asleep together in adjacent swivel chairs in your office. Hey. It was a rough afternoon. 

Mulatto Raggedy Ann.

Man. I thought I left the military because I was sick of seeing my boys leave me. ...all your troubles have been washed away. Yet, I'd take them all off of your shoulders just to take one more ride with you. 

Ugh. I hope one day, I'll be able to understand. One day I'll be able to fully accept the truth behind why you had to go. However, today is not that day. If anything- I wish today was the day you called me at ten AM like always and demand that I meet you somewhere for tomfoolery and debauchery. 

Maybe...

If I close my eyes really tight, and count to three- I'd open them to a text from you calling me a 'silly little bitch' and that I must meet you Saturday for something silly you just discovered on the 'internets'

Nah. 

Facebook is already blowing up. You've gone on.

...and I'm... just writing a blog. 

Love You, son. 

My key is always gonna be in the bushes for you. 

-Sean. (your boy, Stank Sinatra-which you probably have me still in your phone.)

P.S.

Tri-Sarah-tops said she's e-mail you a picture of her butchered hair. She's still horny and needs your matchmaking expertise. Hook it up for us. ...and I promise I'll work harder at not taking myself so seriously.





"That is my principal objection to life, I think: It's too easy, when alive, to make perfectly horrible mistakes." -Kurt Vonnegut

30 Days, 30 Letters- Day 24: The Person Who Gave You Your Favorite Memory

I wouldn't necessarily call this my favorite memory...

Honestly... I wouldn't call you my favorite person. Not saying I don't like you- I'm just saying your theatrics are a bit MUCH. It is these same theatrics that are the muse for this letter.

You love to tell folk how I was the boyfriend from hell, and blah blah... however you fail to mention the most unforgivable thing you can ever do to someone- which you casually did to me.

First off all, let me remind you- of your silly little rules concerning HOW and the ONLY HOW we were allowed to have sex, as per YOUR rules.


missionary. cuddling afterwards. sleep in each other's arms. fin.


Nothing else was permitted.

Oh, and how can I forget the other:

Tolerate your overbearing, demanding, super repetitive oral fixation, while simultaneously alerting you 3 minutes prior to me cumming, so you can STOP what you were doing and go do something else. each. and. every. time.
note: Whilst you are down there feasting on trouser snake, I am NOT allowed to place my hand on the back of your head- for you do not like that. 

Yeah.
Now that we've got that out in the air, I'm going to tell you what you did, even though by now I'm sure you've figured it out.
So, we were messing around one night on the couch in my folk's living room and we somehow started to have sex. During the supposed foreplay, you decided to go down on me again, for like the third time that day. I was a tad fed up because just three days prior I had (what I thought) was a legitimate conversation with you about how FUCKING retarded it was for you to be going down on me on the average of 3-4 times a day, (like that ride from D.C. to Va Beach where you went down on me 4 times, I came NO times. ...yay. fun.) and only actually ejaculating during that wack ass boring missionary sex. I even brought up how unlike most guys, I don't require to actually come in your mouth/face/etc. I just want to see the destination if I'm putting up  with the journey...
three to five times a day.

And now... here we are on the couch. You coyly look up at me as your work your way into my boxers. You slide your lips up and down my shaft giggling proudly at the work you're doing... but I'm a sentinel today. I refuse to enjoy this. I'm on a mission. I will NOT get my hopes up for nothing. I guess you sense my fortitude, because you work even harder,a nd your mouth gets wetter than ever. I try to ignore this new challenge, but I can't. So I figure I would just ambush you with a pre-emptive orgasm. I decide that if I came just ONCE, you would see it's not so bad and throw your silly rules out the window. So I hold back all physical signs that I'm cumming. Then suddenly, I grab that mass of hair and lock you into place- and cum in your mouth.

I've won.

No... I haven't. Because at that moment you start convulsing around the mattress like you're having a seizure, and start coughing and then you throw up in my lap. YOU VOMIT ON ME. It takes about 7 seconds to process that I've got this weird mixture of snot, spit, semen, and whatever you ate earlier on me... and I want it off YESTERDAY. The only way to do that is to slant walk (so it doesn't ooze down my body) to the shower where I loofa myself into a brand new pale skin. When I get back to where you are- I find you snuggled up under the sheets. After I force myself to lay next to you...hoping we don't have to talk any more tonight, you rollover and ask me if I still want to have sex.

Were. You. Serious?
I would later find out... you indeed were.

Years later, even though we aren't together... like I said earlier- your theatrics still annoy me. 


-Tesco.