dear uncle joe,
i’m sorry to hear about your condition. i can’t imagine what it’s like having to live that way. you’re slowly dying and as horrible as this may sound, i wish you would just stop fighting already. you’re suffering and there’s no getting better. not for you. i wish you’d stop fighting and go with god. all your life, you’ve only cared about one thing. and that was when you were going to get your next bottle of alcohol. and it got so bad that you even stopped eating. and all you would do is drink. and drink. and drink. i don’t know why. i’m pretty sure you’re the only one that knows why. i know i talked to you at the hospital and even though you couldn’t talk back, that was okay. because i knew you were listening. i’m so sorry your life had to turn out this way. i just hope that your life up there is better than the one you had down here.
sincerly, girlie (:
