The Trip

Response #1

To Velveteen,
       I don't know where to start; there are so many things I want to say all at once concerning various things. I just want you to be ok. I hate seeing you suffer because of what your brain does that you can't control; no one should have to deal with it, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
       Since I'm on the subject, I'll talk about your brain. It lies to you. It uses traumatic things you went through and twists it to make it easy to believe it'll apply everywhere. Not every car ride will result in an accident. My trips do not mean abandonment or sudden death. The people who you can't talk to but want to are fine. I understand some the things you stress about more than I'd like to admit. I'm sorry about the things I understand but can't and don't know how to help.
        This letter is in part me confirming that I'm not dead. Yes, I'll be going on a trip that scares the shit out of me for sake of crowds and heights and just everything, but I will come back, I won't die. I know you'll still stress about it and try to force yourself to be ok, but know it's ok to not be ok. Just don't respond in ways you'll regret, namely going swimming. True, I won't be there in person to hold back, and in fact I'll be in a different state entirely, but consider this letter as me virtually doing so.
       There will be places on this trip in which you won't be able to ask if I'm still alive and times where I won't be able to talk, but I will still be alive and you better be alive when I get back. Promise me you will be, because I DO, and if you're reading this you know what I mean.
              Please confirm that you're alive,
                                  A friend who cares