So I’m driving to Lafayette tomorrow to spend Easter with my little sister. Yet another 12 hour drive. I fear that some morning I’m going to wake up to find the following letter on my pillow.

Dear Amanda;
We’ve had some good times you and I which makes writing this all the harder.
You’ve feed me well and I’ve done my best at protecting you. Remember that time when you started playing Dance Dance Revolution and kept falling? Who was there to catch you?
And remember the time when the Fisher Price car broke and you went sliding down the hill? Who took the brunt of that attack?

I’m choosing to forget about the bad times. Like when you thought spandex was a good idea. And the time we went bungee jumping- it was all I could do to keep our shite together. But let’s forget all that and just focus on our times in the sun.

It pains me but I feel that this last trip was the last straw. I hate doing this to you but I really do think it is time for me to go. Please don’t try to find me. I love you and wish you well.
Love;
Your Ass