Summary: Whilst Kirsten is in rehab, various people write to her.


Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the O.C

Hey mom, it's me. Your lovely, adorkable (yes it is a word, even Summer says so), rad (remember that?) son Seth. Remember, yay high, Jew-fro, stealth extraordinaire? Dad said we should write to you, since, you know, no contact for 72 hours, which sucks (I know, "don't say suck Seth").

So…I hope you're ok and getting the help you need. I love you. I don't say it enough. Well…ever really, but, let's not go there. This is harder than I thought it would be. For someone who likes to fit as many words as possible in a breath (remember when I learned those tongue-twisters and nearly passed out trying to do it in one breath?) this is weird. I mean, I'm more of an email person anyway, but I remember how you told me you hated the spelling (which, listen, I've heard that the "c u l8r" text language is a valuable way of young people thinking about grammar and adopting it to apply to a different situation). Well, I know I'm not going to convince you, so let's move on.

Well I've managed to ramble about nothing, which I guess kinda fits. I was going for a conversational letter, because I remember those formal letters we had to write in English and hated writing them, and because I knew I wasn't gonna end this letter with "Yours sincerely", I think I know you an eensy bit better than that.

Dad said it might be good if I wrote about my feelings. So, here goes. It hurts what you did. I think I maybe understand why, a little. It hurts that you did what you did and that now everyone's hurting because of it (if that makes any sense). But I don't want to put the blame solely on you, because I know all about paralysing self-doubt. I just want you to get better because, strange as this is to admit (and never mention this to anyone else), it hurts the most that you're gone. Not that I've gone and left you guys, but you've left me. Us. But I guess it goes both ways. Is this what it felt like when I went to Portland? Or was it doubled because of Ryan off to Chino? But the difference is I know the whys and the where and I don't know if that makes it easier or harder. I feel that maybe it's partly my fault, because I didn't notice, nobody really noticed, until it was too late. I should have been a better son, I know that. We haven't spent time together since forever really, and I should have changed that. Before Ryan came, I know I hated you showing any kind of affection for me, and you stopped, for me, even though I knew it hurt you. When I found out about Ryan's mom, I thought I had realised how much I loved you and how lucky I was. I thought I would show that, but I guess I never really did. When you get back, we'll change that, I swear. We'll watch sappy chick flicks, go shopping, whatever.

I miss you Mom. I mean, I always knew Dad and I had the most in common, the looks, the Jewishness, the sense of humour. Whereas you were, like, the total opposite. Waspy McWasp, cute button nose, blonde hair, blue-eyed Californian beach babe (which dude, you can totally be a babe. You're not even 40. But don't tell anyone I said this. And I know, "don't call your mother dude". Whatever). We never really had any common interests, and I know you tried, looking back I think that sometimes you tried so hard, and I just rejected it because it wasn't cool to "hang" with your mother. Not that I was ever cool, so I don't know why it was so important. And you know, the other kids all knew who you were through all the Newpsie and school charity events. They even included you in Ultimatum (if you don't know what it is ask Julie, I'm sure she'll know, I'm sure not telling you). They thought you were a cool mom, even if I wasn't a cool kid. See, you should be Marissa's mom; she's so much more similar to you than I am (that's not a reference to your…problem, by the way). She's just…well she used to be popular, she's into fashion, and even she looks more like you than I do.

Summer just popped in. She says hi by the way, and hopes you're doing ok. She says she'll take you shopping once you get out. She's been a bit down lately, with the whole Trey-Marissa thing. I think she's lonely, for some girl company. And mom-company I guess, seeing as the Stepmonster cannot be mentioned in any maternal capacity and her mom left years ago.

Marissa's in rehab too, but a different type. I don't want to drag you down with details, but she's not doing well. Ryan's been to see her. I don't think he's even begun to comprehend what's happened. It's…mind-boggling.

Anyway… to leave you with positive thoughts and happy memories I want to remind you about one of our interests- music. Not always a common interest, I mean your American Idol obsession alone…Kelly Clarkson? Really? It's better than Dad's show tunes though, I will admit that. Today I was looking through my CD collection and I found my old copy of Oasis' album (What's The Story) Morning Glory. I remembered when you were driving me to see Grandma Nichol when we lived in Berkeley, and you loved this CD and had it on in the car, and the first time I heard it, I loved it too. By the end of the journey I knew the words to Champagne Supernova (I remember that that was your favourite, it ended up on repeat all the time!) and we sang along and it was awesome. After visiting Grandma Nichol, you were sad, and I was sad too because I couldn't see her since she was too ill, so we blasted the CD and sang along on the way back to cheer us up. After that it was always our thing. Then one day, you gave that CD to me and it was the best present (bar Captain Oats) that I had ever had in my whole entire life (of 6 years, but still. I was very advanced. I knew good music when I heard it). Now, eleven years later, I'm holding this in my hands, and it reminds me of us. You and me. Just us. Maybe I don't have as many memories of us two as I do with dad, but I'll never forget that memory.

Get better, Mom, please. And I promise, once you get out, I'll drive you somewhere and blast the Oasis CD like we used to. Just you and me.

I love you Mom. I'll say it again, because I really don't say it enough. I miss you so much, Dad's a wreck without you. You need to make it up to Ryan the most though. I know I can sometimes be self-involved, but seriously. I don't know if he's upset, angry, pissed, all of the above or more but I think you should know why (apart from the Trey –Marissa thing). And if you don't, you should.

Don't worry about us too much. We men can take care of ourselves. There has been a marked improvement in kitchen safety also, I may add.

All my love,



P.S. Did you hide the takeout menus somewhere? I swear you've moved them. We can't survive on grilled cheese and barbecued steaks for long, I tell you.