A letter from Jan 24, 2025

Hey Tash, Happy 30th birthday. Soon you'll be 30 and then you'll be dead? What happened to the plans of getting kicked off the coast of Greece with an Aperol Spritz in hand? I don't have much to offer other than hope. Right now, a year and a bit away, on some of the darkest days I wanted to write to you when I felt a bit of hope - or something. I am writing this in the library of Salt Lake City, listening to a combination of "Small Town Boy" - bronski beat, "In the Dark" - mayaewk, and "Glory Box" - portishead. I hope things haven't changed too much in the music department. We have had a huge couple of ******* years. Divorce, scams, love, lies and bleeding. It's been a pretty harrowing year already, and we are only 24 days in. The days are short, and I feel pretty lonely, scared, and confused. But at least they are my own feelings (I guess). I am finally going to stand up for myself a bit more (I hope). Leave home. Fail marvelously, and succeed even better. That's what I want to do. I left home, and then I left home again, and again, and again to the point where I am beginning to question what the **** home even is. But, I never severed myself truly. I always did what was comfortable. I moved in with a man I was convinced I loved. Then, I married him. I left when it all got too hard, only to replace him with one of the hardest lessons I have ever learned in such a short time - Simone. I replaced the love and care and adoration I always wanted with someone who acted a chameleon to my emotions. You know now she doesn't care - or ever did. But you can thank her (or not - I know you would rather her suck eggs). But it made you finally push yourself to leave "home". Home for you wasn't a place - it never was Tash. Home is the rules and frameworks you establish yourself, which you believe is a life well lived. A hetronormative white picket fence. And you always thought you were above it - but you were truly trapped in it. Leave home. Fail marvelously, and succeed even better. You know home wasn't physical. It never has been for us. I still don't quite know what home is, but I know where I have to go. And again, this isn't physical. It's that bravery in living you you truly are. We know for a while that I am not straight. I don't think I ever have been, but I just squished down the thought of any alternative because I just wanted to be ok, and baby girl, I know, it was violent, and it was ******, and it really ******* changed your life trajectory. You just wanted to be protected, and no one is going to hold that against you. I still don't understand how much it hurt - I still can't remember it all. But I know after it - I needed to be in control and not be hurt, and we pushed anything away to focus on a life that wasn't fulfilling to you. Leave home. Fail marvelously, and succeed even better. I am so proud of you for getting out of that relationship. I am so proud of you for now leaving Simone. It's ok to be hurt and to leave home, fail marvelously, and succeed even better. You thought the song Small Town Boy was just a bop. It connected with us on such a deeper level, and you had no idea why. Girl, you are *** as hell, and literally everyone saw it but you. The walls were made of mother ******* glass. I know and am still coming to terms with that whole understanding. Understanding that the chase of men, that thrill of being desired and men being so easy - that's not love, that is not attraction. That passion is just validation. But all of those women you have loved in your life but have just passed off as "just a really good best friend" that is always what you wanted genuinely, emotionally, and passionately. Did you really think rewatching skins for the *** scenes really meant anything else? I am still going back and forth on understanding this fully - but I think what happened to you, what happened to your home, and the timing of meeting Paddy was protection. You shut down for years, you became a different person, and you did this in the name of love, but really, you just didn't want to be hurt again. Like I said, I still don't remember what happened fully that night. But now it's time. Leave home. Fail marvelously, and succeed even better. I have a plan to get us out of this. For once, full and unconditionally do what you want without fear. Live a life and love who you want to without hurt. It takes courage to do scary things, which is what Claud and you have been screaming at the top of your lungs as you road trip at -20 down backdoor Canadian towns in the midst of winter. And it's true. The angel opens her eyes - pale blue-colored iris, presents the sun and puts the glory out to hide. We are going to leave, fail, and come back even better than before. Lightning crashes baby, Tash 2025