I wasn’t sure whether to post this or not, but fuck it, here it is.
Hey Old Boy,
I realised I haven’t written you a letter since I was around 5, so bout time I’d say hello I reckon.
Well, life’s been hard since you left me to do it alone, it was hard beforehand & I wish you took me away earlier than I left, but never mind that it’s done now, no one can change what was. It’s played out not so bad, gave me character and all that shit.
Where to start now?
Well Mum left us in September, so technically an orphan now, all before 30, that’s great.
were still not certain why, but I think she was just done fighting, done fighting the demons she invented, done being strong for the kids that did no good, done fighting her body, and done fighting her past. She was just tired. Even though she always loved a fight, you know that.
Since you’ve left it feels as if I’ve been dreaming, surely the shit I’ve been through and put myself in can’t be real. I hate you for leaving me here to teach myself how to be a man.
I didn’t do it well, I fell to what my past knew, and I taught myself from that.
I taught myself to lie and steal, and that it was ok.
I taught myself violence solved problems and power was all that was important if you felt you did no wrong.
I learnt words are my greatest power, not in learning or teaching or talking down situations but avoiding the lonely nights the rolling stone lifestyle brought.
I learnt to smile and laugh even when not feeling like it, to be different in the crowd, unique and leave impressions, this has been my most useful tool I have in my possession. I have found that my persuasion techniques can change from a smile and kind nature to a hook or uppercut and all to impress someone, this isn’t my intention, just me.
I much like you and mum have found solace in those where no faith lies, and many have found me down the bottom too and thought the same.
Since you’ve left I’ve loved a million times and never done it well, I’m not a good partner and probably never will be, but that’s the Longshaw curse, and its destined to repeat.
You missed my wedding, and it was great.
I married Jessica Lisa Wylie, and she is a phenomenal lady, has always had the ability to find the good in bad people, I assume that’s why when at my lowest she still found the good in me, though, even now at nearly 5 years of marriage and nearly ten years, I’m not sure why and I’m not sure how she deals with the disappointment.
I have since you’ve gone nearly been to jail, nearly died and nearly committed suicide, I’ve seen the bottom of society, sold them drugs and been there myself. I’ve climbed social and professional ladders, and burnt them too, I’ve fought men, and been beaten, I’ve given freely and stole to eat, I cannot at this point imagine my life had you not left me here.
Since you’ve been gone, I have had the most beautiful daughter, her name is Imogen Jessica, and she was born on a sunny morning in early July, and has our deep azure eyes.
she is creative and smart beyond words, she has the same effect on not letting people forget her.
I know what I’ve done doesn’t allow me to deserve what I have but for this pure beauty, I am grateful.
You would love her like no other, but again I’m not sure I can imagine what this looks like. When my mind wonders on this subject, I imagine images of her and of you but they are never connected. This is her curse.
I’ve dreamed of you but have forgotten your voice, this happens a lot now. And have since you left never seen your face in my dreams.
I’ve lost friends who said they were brothers and gained family from friends, but have never felt so alone in my quiet moments.
This pen of late has helped the words created whilst low or drinking flow, but I still even in my mind which is slowly becoming clear ask why did you go.
I am on a life changing journey, something inside of late has changed, I’m just not certain where it is. I’d love to tell you how I feel, but unfortunately your no longer real.
I have far more to say but the words haven’t developed just yet, I’m listening to Johnny Cash and at the moment Hurt is pretty much the story of mine, yours and her existence.
We have all dreamed bigger than we act, and we are not all that we are, nor can we be defined by that which defines us.
Peace Dad, Talk soon.