Chapter X

Dear Weaver,

Spring time is peeking through the brightest clouds of the northern hemisphere. I could hear the birds of the summer chanting as they fly over the budding tree branches. The date is April 1st, 2015 and it has been two years since I have seen you. But now I speak to you on a daily basis through letters and messages, yet I still cannot shake your voice off of my mind. I want you to read these letters so badly, I cannot bare to wait anymore, but I do not want to ruin what would be there. If the time we reconnected ever comes, will you ever see me the way I am? I am now diagnosed with gastritis, IBS, GERDs and what nobody knows, precancerous cells in my stomach were also found. Weaver, I refuse to hide it from you because I will never accept the day that comes when I settle down to my deathbed. I want to be able to regret nothing and to be able to accept your strength. The presence around your dark soul is draining you and I want you to be able to accept mine.  

'I pray that he finds something more in life and that he does not walk so blind with the shield of pain amongst his face. His soul is so deep, and his control of intuition could help him find his way out of this agony, yet he lets the gift take control of him.'

William.

I am confused to why you even want anything to do with me now. At first I could have sworn you thought of me as nothing but a speck of dust. You wanted nothing to do with me when I was around. But as soon as we parted our own ways you somehow have made me choke on my words. You know, the words I try to write. I cannot hide from you, nor can I run away. 

Ever since I moved away, I lost contact with all of my friends. Rachel is the only one I keep in touch with. I speak to Pete from time to time, but his job has him too occupied with saving lives and helping aid other countries. He now works with the higher end of the United Nations, and I could not be more proud. Rachel has fulfilled her dream of becoming a psychiatrist a few years ago, but now she has made it to lead therapist in the clinic she works in, and painting beautiful artwork as her side work. Andy and Mario are still living their daily lives, working jobs of their own business and they even joined a band together. I myself have finally entered the Nursing program which will give me my RN license in approximately three years, after publishing two books in a row. I feel almost accomplished, but there is just one thing that is killing me and eating me alive, Weaver, and you are one of the few who tries to support me through it, but I have become an addict. An addict of the demon of pharmaceuticals.

Klonopin, generically known as clonazepam has taken a hold of my life. There is a demon in my soul and I have to purge it out. When I wake up I need my food, I need my water, and I need my Klonopin. I crave them at every occasion, every event, with every musical instrument I play and after every good meal. Just break up that beautiful round tablet and crush them up, one by one. And with coffee... oh the great feeling of combining the two. I have nearly fucked my life up and nobody has control over it. It is true when they say an addict is  hard to control. 

Weaver, I have told many of my friends and dealers to keep the pills away from me, but the key to stopping isn't just form suppport. That I am grateful for, and I do not find weaning myself down to half's a good idea. I have to stop talking about it, but here I am stuck behind my golden f*****g throne writing down my love for them. My narcotic addiction to Klonopin. Rachel has supported me the most out of everyone, she truly is my best friend and my sister. William, you have supported me although from ways away your letters truly mean a lot. 

I had another dream last night, you were in pain, stitched up and bleeding, and I walked in front of you and you did not even care for my presence. It hurt so much until I realized it was only a dream; but it still hurt when I woke up, realizing you were in emotional pain. Then you wrote me a letter. 

You confessed to me of the other woman and I. I am convinced I mean a small amount to you, just like everyone else. But it is my job to give my love to and care for others more than I can receive. I am a healer, "lightworker" and perhaps an earth angel. I already paid my dues. I wish you would crawl out of your hole and know how many people really care for you, William. I am one of those many and you are much more than you think you are on this earth. You are holding a beautiful gift of intuition, and whatever else it may be, but whatever it is you need to accept it. Accept it and enlighten your darkened soul for yourself, or at least for me.

I thank you William. I thank you for accepting my decisions, helping me through the process of almost every bad decision I have made, and making me realize I have to use my greatest gift to let out my darkest secrets. I am eager and yet I have already set my heart onto these letters, William. Although I know there is no hope between us for we are separated by the oceans, our souls have yet to connect. But we both know there is no hope at all for now. I will cherish these letters until every minute brings me closer to the time of day we cross each others paths again. For now, I will hold these letters a memory and a secret to confide. 

Augustine