September 30th, 2024 - Ambrose

Dear TNY,

“Ambrose” is this Monday’s attempt at a story.

I’m not sure what it is.  Starts nowhere.  Goes nowhere.  The language is really basic, but it’s supposed to be because of the protagonist’s age.  I’m not saying I didn’t like it, though.  I felt for the little girl.  Which is weird.  Like, I don’t think the story was written particularly well, but it exercised my empathy.  Not at the end, which is another anomaly.  When she was talking to her dad, mostly. 

I don’t have much more to say.  The giant monster is still in the room.  Probably bigger than before.  And when he rolls over top of me the only solution seems like death.  I miss my father.  I miss my brother. I miss Ben.  I miss my kids.  I miss J.  I feel so fucking alone.  Unwanted.  Unseen.  Uncared for.  Fuck.

But, why should anyone care about me?  Why indeed.

Nick

P.S. Sorry this is so short.  I just don’t have it in me right now.  Julien Baker said it best, because this is how I fucking feel right now:

I know you're still worried, I'm gonna get scared again
And make my insides clean with your kitchen bleach

But I've kissed enough bathroom sinks
To make up for the lovers that never loved me
And I know my body is just dirty clothes
I'm tired of washin' my hands, God, I wanna go home

But I don’t even see home on the fucking horizon.  Just more monsters.  You know, a couple of years ago I asked this woman I knew from boat school if she wanted to stay the night.  And she cheekily replied, “Why?  What do you think we’ll get up to?”  I said, without hesitation, “We’ll hold hands and fight off the monsters in the night, we don’t have to do it alone.”

Yeah.  Guys, I might not make it.