mikey, michael ryan pritchard.... god, even your name was beautiful. everything you were about was beautiful. your eyes were so fucking blue and i found myself getting lost in them all the time. you never fucked up as much as i did. fucks sake i was so fucking awful to you. why did you stay all that time? why did you let me come back after i was gone for almost two years? i sure as hell didn’t deserve any of the shit you did for me ever. i made your life hell by getting knocked up and causing us to fight all the time and getting me hooked up on drugs and that whole shitshow. why did you stay with me after i cheated on my wife and made brix? of course you didn’t accept me back that time. i fucked up bad and i really deserved to die. all i ever did was cause people pain. i really couldn’t do it anymore. it was for the best, what i did. i couldn’t be a good mom to brixton. i had a breakdown in the hospital and left and then life turned to shit. that’s when i knew i had to make it right. of course when i came there that day you slammed me up against the wall, threatened me and spat out all the things i did wrong all while our son was in the other room. you didn’t seem upset when i died. you knew it was coming but you just didn’t have any emotion. that was up until the funeral. you had asked your mom to watch brix while you ran out of the back of the home and broke down in your car. you sat there for about half an hour, crying and cursing at me. little did you know i was sitting in the passenger seat right next to you, watching, but unable to comfort you or do anything about the situation. you were depressed for the longest time. you’d go out on little smoke breaks and while you were out, i’d help brixton finish his cheerios or i’d play a game with him and you’d be so confused when you came back inside because he would be trying to explain what happened in baby talk. on my birthday when brix was thirteen you took him to see me. well, you did almost every month but this time it was different. this time it was raining, absolutely pouring and neither of you wanted to get out of the car. you ended up complying and walking to my stone but when you got there you noticed something. there was an opening in the clouds where the sun peeked out over my stone. it wasn’t raining in that particular spot, but all the surrounding places it was. the grass wasn’t even wet so you both sat down and played a game of uno in the grass. you talked to me for a few hours. you told me you forgave me and that if i was playing some cruel joke on you, to come out and tell you that i love you and that’s what i did. when you guys got back into that blue truck there was a picture of us on the dashboard i put there. it was a picture of us on my thirteenth birthday. we both were happy and overjoyed and you broke down again. you researched all these ways you could communicate with the dead but all you really had to do was talk.... no equipment needed. i listened every time and even though it took a lot out of me to reply, i did the best i could. our story didn’t have a happy ending in life but things seemed to have been patched up once i was gone. we always found our way back to each other, it’s what we were known for. i hope you never forget what we went through and please tell the kids i’m thinking about them..... and you. thinking about you.... if you knew what i went through back then you’d understand why i feel this way. my mind is like a telephone station with flashing lights everywhere and fuses blowing all the damn time. there’s really no way of fixing my mistakes. i cant think of myself the same way anymore. i feel like i did back when i came home from ryan’s. i feel unloved and used. i feel like getting treated like shit is all i’m good for. i’m not on hard drugs in this life but i still have to deal with all these memories of shit that happened to me. i have to live with the fact that things can never be the same. i have to wake up every morning scared that something bad had happened over night. my insomnia and anxiety keeps me awake and makes me sick, something that a change of medication can’t cure. me alone with my thoughts. it’s not a good combination. i always have to have someone there for me even if it’s.... him.... i’m needy and clingy and constantly need attention but i still have feelings and i still do care. i wish the best for everyone in life that i love. i hope that nothing bad happens to you and i hope you treat brix right with your future family. if it’s him.... i’m sure in the future i’ll have callie or brix back but we never know it could be olivia or jettson or some shit. mothers instinct knows right away. it’s a shame i fucked things up right? always find a way to do that. i cant go back now and i have to look into the present and future from here on out. it’ll be a while before i recover, maybe a year or two or even more maybe never but i’ll still always love you and the kids. no matter what our labels are. i hope you can stick by me and be my friend but i know it’s hard to communicate or talk with me most of the time because i’m always so negative and i always cause problems. i just still hope you care. because i do and callie knows too.