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dear ross,
the burn feels so good. at first, i didn't like it, but now, i've become addicted to this feeling. the alcohol scorches my throat painfully as it glides down.
it's been 30 days since you killed yourself. a whole month. everyone knew it was hard for me, so they all left me alone here.
i've been drowning myself in vodka and whiskey for the past two hours. my mind is really fuzzy and my hand keeps trembling, so i'm sorry if it's hard to read this letter. the alcohol is messing up my thoughts, and i like it. i like it very much.
by the way, i didn't read your letter yet. it's still buried in my drawer, i'm too scared to open it. i did peak in it for two seconds, and all i know is that you wrote a lot to me. i tried reading it this morning, but when i saw "dear laura", i freaked out. what a coward, right?
don't worry about me, i'm doing fine here. i'll survive somehow without you, so have fun in heaven.
