Love You Hate You Miss You

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As I’m set adrift on this crazy sea called “life,” I like to think of an inspirational poem I heard not long ago, one that made me weep because of its beauty.

Today, I truly believe each day is a precious gift. . . .

I don’t think so.

Anyway, while Dr. Marks (mustache like you wouldn’t believe, long and shaggy and made even worse by the fact that he’s always got crumbs in it) babbles on about how we need a place to share our “experiences,” I’m writing to you.

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I don’t want you to think everything here has been so useless. I mean, Pinewood is a “teen treatment center,” so there’s, you know, the unpleasantness of just being here, but it hasn’t all sucked. It’s going to follow me around forever, though. “Was in rehab.” Just like all the other

“ ” I carry now.

You know, I always thought I told you everything, but there are some things I should have said and never did. I should have told you about the time I lost your new sun-glasses. I know you really liked them. I should have apologized every time I puked on your shoes and especially the time I ruined your brand-new skirt, the one with the beading. I should have apologized for a lot of stuff.

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