Date: Tues, 14 June 2011 11:46:22 -0700
From: cooldocblue4u islebirdmail .com
Subject: Having a wonderful time, Wish you were here
To: jameswilson ppthprofessionalsmail .com
Dear Jimmy Boy,
And they say no one ever emails anymore.
Hoping you are well. How's the family?
It seems you were both right and wrong. I do feel better. But nothing ever really changes. Like for instance, if I was standing there in front of you: You'd have your hands on your hips and your mouth quirked in that little disapproving frown, and then you'd begin the lecture.
I'll save you the trouble. I KNOW I'm a fucked up miserable bastard. Only now at least I'm a free one. No one is following me around insisting that I need to "deal with my feelings". Tried that. Seems nobody liked it all that much (well, I'm just assuming there. Sue me.)
Maybe it's just the booze talking – I've had a lot of that – or maybe it's because I may very well never see you again, but I'm finally willing to have that little conversation we never had. Best part of all is that it will be entirely one-sided. I get to do all the talking, and you can't interrupt or be judgmental or prissy or maudlin or anything else to stop me. Sad thing is, after twenty years I already know exactly what you would say, and I can't get your voice out of my head. Maybe a few more drinks will fix that. Sometimes it helps. Other times not. But that's another story entirely.
You're asking me why. I'll tell you. Forgive me for being brutally honest, but you should know by now that when I am forced to express myself it usually isn't pleasant. And before you say it, YES you ARE forcing me to express myself. You've been forcing that for years. I'm just too tired to resist anymore.
Why did I do it? So she would stop saying "I'm sorry" … because she isn't. She knew damn well what she was getting herself into. She made promises and gave just enough to make me need it – like a good little addict – then she stole it all away. Seems like I wasn't good enough after all. Again.
Nod your head. You know it's true.
And you did it too. How is Sam, btw? Oh, right. She's gone. Gee if only I'd seen that one coming - I could have warned you. Alas.
In a way this is all your fault. If I'd still had a real home to go back to that night, I wouldn't have latched onto her lifeline so quickly and completely. I don't know if I ever loved her at all, really. I thought I did. At least I wanted to. She said she loved me, but was sorry about that too. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Everybody is sorry. But everybody lies.
I'm not sorry. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I don't know if anybody will believe that, but it's true. And I don't really care if anyone believes me. I know nobody was injured. Yes I know you hurt your wrist. For that -only- I am sorry, but I am a doctor after all. I know it wasn't too serious.
I did make you get out of the car. I didn't intend to involve you. I didn't want to hurt you again. Yes – I know I've hurt you a lot of times over the years. But let's not take a biased view of things, Jimmy. You have a nice long history of hurting me too. Feels pretty good to finally admit that I'm being hurt. Who would have thought after all those years – decades – of telling myself and everyone else that nothing matters and nothing hurts, it would be so freeing to tell you all that it did hurt. So fucking stop now. Please. I've had enough.
It isn't that I don't wish things were different, but they are what they are. You need a woman around. I keep telling you it's way easier to stick with the pro's. They don't judge you or try to change you. You don't even have to put the toilet seat down for them. And they never put the milk in the refrigerator door or take too damn many flu pills … They don't even cheat on you. It's just business with them. But you want to put a ring on it.
I wonder how it could have been if you'd actually put that ring on me. Because I would have let you. Then I'd probably be ex-Mrs./Mr. Wilson number four by now – because of one or the other of us being a damned idiot – but I wonder if I could have at least seen it first. Just for once. Just a glimpse. I thought I could almost see it with her. But now I realize I just looked for it so hard, my eyes burned and it was a hazy mirage. I don't do happy. I don't know how. I wish -
But it's pointless. If wishes were horses … or zebras. But they aren't.
I do miss parts of my old life. I even miss the hospital. Well, actually I just miss the paychecks. And the puzzles. The puzzles were always cool.
And I miss you. It's funny how very much I miss you when I told myself with such conviction that I wouldn't.
Be happy, Jimmy. Do it for both of us, because I never figured out how to do it myself.
This must be the longest email in recent recorded history. I hope you read it. I'll just tell myself you did, and that you understand. You were the only one who ever almost did.
(I'm fixing it so that this email addy won't work anymore after I hit send, and I'm taking another flight out of here in half an hour. It's better this way.)
Date: Tues, 14 June 2011 12:32:12 -0700
From: jameswilson ppthprofessionalsmail .com
Subject: Re: Having a wonderful time, Wish you were here
To: cooldocblue4u islebirdmail .com
God House, call me! Let me know where you are. Tell me you're okay. I've been losing my mind. You've got to get this email. I tried all your other ones that I know of and you've killed them all, you don't answer your phone -
House you can't run from this. We need to talk. We have to get a plan. This isn't going to go away, House. This one is too big. And I do understand.
And I'm sorry. I wish so too.
Don't move on without me now! Not after we've finally opened our eyes.
Please, House. Get in touch.
I love you.
Date: Tues, 14 June 2011 12:35:19 -0700
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To: jameswilson ppthprofessionalsmail .com
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Re: Having a wonderful time, Wish you were here
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