daisy,
the other day, my therapist, asked us in a group session, what our favorite things were. our favorite colors, our favorite foods, favorite songs, you know things like that…. most people began listing off the normal things you think they’d list, you know, green, red, pizza, tacos, but then it was my turn. all I could think about was you. your eyes, your voice, that little diner on the strip you love to go get breakfast at— all these things, they’ve become my favorites. you’ve become my favorite.
and if you want to know the truth of it all? I’ve come to realize that I’m better with you. even when we were partying and doing all those things that were bad, you still kept me grounded and kept me from going off the rails. I asked them not to tell you, I wanted you to hear it from me first, but before I agreed to go to rehab, Karen and Teddy found me unresponsive in our bathroom. I had gone on a bender and I had almost died. I was running from these feelings, running from our life together, and then I hit a brick wall. I woke up in the hospital, alone, and it was then I realized I don’t want to do this alone anymore.
I was scared of what fatherhood meant. I’ve told you before but my father left when I was young, graham was even younger than me, and I was worried that with our lifestyle, I was going to be like him. That I wasn’t going to be able to handle it, and i’d inevitably walk away from you and our kid. I didn’t want that. I don’t want that. but teddy talked me down. He got me here, and I’m officially sober too. I wish I could see you. I bet you look as beautiful as ever, I bet you’re glowing.
you’re the only person I think I could raise a child with daisy, and I’m not going to make you do this alone. I’m all in, okay? once we get out, we’ll buy a house, a nice one in the hills or something where our baby has room to grow and we can start a new life together. just us, our baby, and the music. we don’t need anything else.
and daisy? you’re going to be a great mother too, I hope you see that.
with my heart, soul, and body, love,
your billy.
i’ve never been anyone’s favourite anything. i’m an only child but i was never either of my parents’ favourite child, so if this is how good it feels like to be yours, then i never want to lose this feeling. it’s a different kind of high, one i think will be good for me. i think you will be good for me, and i hope i can be good for you too.
how thankful i am the right people found you and helped you get the help you needed when i wasn’t able to. we both owe teddy and karen a whole lot more than we’ll ever be able to give them back. they got me out at the right time, made me face my reflection head on and deal with all the shit i’d been burying for years. they got to you at the eleventh hour, dragged you back from the edge and forced you to save your own life. i’m sorry i wasn’t there when it happened, as am i sorry for being grateful i wasn’t. i don’t know how i would have handled seeing you like that, so far gone ... even just the thought of losing you is so upsetting i doubt i’ll ever be able to put the feeling into words.
what i know now more than anything is that i love you. jesus. i’ve said that to a lot of people, to guys who treated me like i was nothing and people whose lives i was only a paragraph in instead of a chapter, but you are the only person i’ve ever said it to and truly, wholeheartedly meant it. i know i’ve said it to you before, while were were euphoric, drunk or high or both, but it feels bigger and a whole lot more serious to say now that i’m sober and clean. maybe you knew all along, or maybe you didn’t. but you do now, and that’s all that matters. you, me, and our baby.
a house in the hills sounds like heaven. let’s get one with a nice view and a big garden the little one can play in, with enough outdoor furniture we can have teddy and the band over for barbecues. i want to give our baby the childhood neither of us got.
and as long as you think i’ll be a great mother, that’s good enough for me. we’ll get through all the diapers and tears together.
