Letters to Fetty,

1

This world that you will come to know is not a beautiful place. Correction: it is not JUST a beautiful place. Growing up you will come to learn that in everything that exists, there is an opposite side. The Yang, the tails, the black, the other half. I hope you come to understand that this complimentary piece is more than a label of “good or bad.” It is just the rest. The continuation. The necessary addition or subtraction for the final result.

This amazing, wonderous, bountiful blue dot that we will call home has more to offer than you or I will ever experience in both of our lifetimes. Some of it so sincerely breath taking and alluring that it brings you to tears for simply being able to experience moments in its presence. This, my little clementine, are the moments that humans have chosen to construct their entire existence around. The so called “Pursuit of Happiness.”

During this pursuit however, we will grow. Like everything else that is considered “living,” we must embark on an internal journey that forces not only our physical bodies to change, but our spiritual, and mental capacities as well. You are growing as I write this, amassing energies that are going to be used to transform you from a small clementine to an orange perhaps, or another citrus based fruit. You will continue to grow until one day, your lease, on the vessel containing your energies will have run its course, and it will return from where it came. This is our process. This is our cycle. This is our “life.”

The beauty in this life and the pursuit of happiness that engrosses it, is the journey. Please, don’t ever forget that. Because the beautiful moments may be spread very far from one another. The things that make you happiest may be so far out of reach that they seem inconceivable. The “beautiful place” that you have come to love, may become ugly.

These are the instances where true appreciation of your journey, of your growth, of your life, of your very breath, must take precedence. Those moments will come again Fetty, be patient. Your happiness will not elude you forever if your will and heart can sustain from wavering. This beautiful world, will become even more beautiful by what you give to it, know that. Nothing exists without something. So give this world, your life, everything.

I love you Fetty,

Papa SLUG

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Why Does She Stay?

I roll over in bed, underneath the 1000 thread Wal-Mart brand sheets that cover our mattress. “Our” mattress. She faces the wall, silent, lying on her left shoulder. I know she is uncomfortable. I want to reach out to her and pull her close to me. Let her feel my warmth so that she can sleep peacefully against my chest.

But I don’t. I just roll over again, the thread count drastically diminishing as I wrestle with myself. She still does not move. I stare at the ceiling, wanting to utter the words that I know will make everything better. The words she wants me to be the only person to say. The words that can ease her unruly, yet patient heart.

But I don’t. Instead, I bury my face into the pillowcase apart of the matching bed set that is causing me endless angst, sighing with dramatic exasperation. She hasn’t made a sound. I know she is waiting. Waiting for my lips to press against the back of her neck. My hands to gently caress the parts of her skin that long for the most attention. For my body to say things that my mind could not formulate into human language.

But I don’t. The room is too cold and these sheets have as much heat retention as a bathrobe covering the body of a naked man getting the morning paper in the middle of winter. That was funny. She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t even smile. She hasn’t even looked at me all night and now she has the audacity to lay over there and act like this is all my fault; silently judging me with her unbreakable…silence. I don’t even think she is breathing.  I could care less. I already know what I need to know. Everything except

Why does she stay?

This is the only thing I cannot conceptualize and rationalize into a clear, infallible, thought. If she doesn’t want to be here, then why does she stay? I am inconsiderate sometimes and I never really know what to say. I am not as romantic as I should be and it is getting harder and harder to get her to see the brighter side in things. There is nothing that I can give her to convince her that I am even the right one for her. So why does she stay?

Her foot accidentally touches mine, for a moment before pulling away. Only a moment. She’s freezing. I roll onto my left shoulder, so uncomfortable. I put my arm next to her head, and she raises it without a word, letting me pull her in closer. I’m so much warmer than she is, “I’ll never buy these sheets again” I whisper into her ear. She giggles softly, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. “It’s ok.” I kiss the back of her neck and she pushes deeper into me. “I Love You.” I whisper just loud enough for her to hear me over her now deep breaths. She turns to face me, caressing my face.

 

“This is why”