A Letter to You

By Felipe Beltran

Lately, I haven’t really been able to remember what’s going on lately. I feel like I’m losing control over myself, my mind, my thoughts, and my bad habits. I act all high and mighty when inside I’m dying. Lately, I’ve been so high or drunk that I haven’t been able to remember what’s been going on lately. Lately, I’ve been waking up not knowing where I am or what I did. Lately, I have been drinking and driving not knowing how I have been surviving. Lately, I’ve been too miserable to live this life sober. Lately, I’ve needed a quick high to comfort my deep lows. Lately, I need some booze to get me in a good mood. Lately, I’ve needed pills to ease the pain within my brain. Lately, I’ve been missing my friend. Lately, I’ve realized I can’t do it to myself. I need help, I’m too weak. For two weeks I’ve been having the highest of highs and then the lowest of lows. Lately, I’ve been locked in my room. My family is worried, I can’t hear them saying “Yeah Phil is in a bad mood.” I ask myself “What the fuck happened to me.” I can’t stop with the weed or the pills. Some nights are so bad I can’t even sleep without them. I know I just lost my friend but “it’s not like him to do that.” “He wouldn’t have gone out like that.” “How could he do that? Why couldn’t he just talk to me?” “I swear we could have gone through it if he just talked to me.” Those types of questions and thoughts only makes my nights worse. Those questions only make me want to pop more perks. No one can understand this “new” version of “me.” Everyone looking at me telling me how “I’m the golden child.” “From all my cousins I’m the one who got to leave Colombia.” “I’m the one who got to live the American dream.” I don’t know what to do. What would you want me to do? I just got my heart torn in two seeing my friend go blue. I stay up reading our old texts, reading our plans after high school, reading those messages when he was still alive. It hurts so much. I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t know what to do. All I know is that the pills got me feeling alright. The alcohol got me numb but got me acting dumb. At this point, I don’t care anymore. The pain is too much. I’ll just pop a couple more pills. I’m not slowing down for anything or anyone. Nothing can stop me. Not an overdose, not these damn pills, not a single bill, not the steering wheel, not the cops, nothing.

I wake up in the hospital. The doctor told me I had alcohol poisoning. She tells me I’m lucky to pull through. I look down and I see so many tubes. I tell myself “I don’t know what I got to do, but I have to pull through. I have to do it for Kidus.” After getting out of the hospital it hits me, all of it. All the times I could have gotten arrested, all the close calls with death, all those times I almost died. One thought rattled through my mind, “What if I didn’t make it through.” I think about all the things I would have never been able to say or do. I would have never gotten the chance to make it right. Well, this is the purpose of this letter. This is my chance to make it right. This is my chance to tell the truth. Matthew, I know you are young, and you

won’t understand this letter, but when ur old enough to understand just know this letter is for you. Luisa, Mom and Dad, this letter is also for you. Even throughout my pain and selfishness just know I still loved you, the love I have for you will never change. You have done so much for me I promise I will get sober and kick this. Mom and Dad, I promise to become the man you guys can be proud of. Matthew, I promise to become a big brother you can look up to, I promise to become the big brother you need. Luisa, I promise I’ll do anything for you on any day. I’m sorry for everything I put you guys through. The truth is I was hurt and didn’t know how to cope. I was hurt by all of it, the embarrassment, the rejection, the abandonment, the grief, the heartbreak, the depression, and the sadness I felt within. I acted out by taking dope. There are still too many things to explain and to this day I still don’t know how to say it. I wish knew how to say it, but I don’t know how to say it. I wish there wasn’t any pain, but there still is some pain. Instead of wishing I promise to work on it. I promise one day I will be able to explain all of it. Till then, just read this letter and know all my progress over the years has been because of you. One of the main reasons I got sober was because of you. This letter was for you