Finding Our Footing

Dear John,

Sometimes, I feel like we should all be out there with you, too. I just…I can’t do it, John. Maybe in a while, but I’m so afraid to leave here now, I’m such a pussy. I feel like if I leave, maybe I won’t belong here anymore when I come back. Like the last place I’ve ever known will turn on me as well.

I feel bad that we did it to them, after all the letters we got, hugs, asking for autographs, those people always made my day beyond reason. They were the reason I woke up in that van in the morning. They made it more than worth it. I feel bad for those people that said they owed us so much, like we just gave up on them. The people who said we were the last thing they had that didn’t leave…and then we did.

What one person? Brian? He was always an asshole, we knew that. We just didn’t find out the extent until we pieced together that we were all screaming at each other because of he-said-she-said that traced right back to Brian. Another chance could have come. Que sera sera, man. We would’ve figured it out. We would have found a place in the world, somewhere. Maybe we wouldn’t be such misfits now.

John, before everything else, through everything else, having a family was your dream. I mean, if you’ve changed, your welcome to it. But don’t you dare give that prick anything else of yourself.

Things change and so do people. We were all lost after the breakup, you were just looking for a place to belong, I guess. And where we always belonged was the road, on the run.

Do you remember how fucking proud we were of that first bus? We let him in, John, that’s how he got inside to tear us apart. Who are you kidding? I was the one with good taste, you still listened to hardcore when you were 25. Country is where it’s at, I stick with that to this day. And yeah, it feels like he’s never off the radio, even when I turn on the television, sometimes he’s even there.

That’s the thing, I never had to be an adult before. I had the band, I didn’t have a family to care for, to have to grow up for. I was just fine being stuck in my perpetual 19-year-old-who-can-drink mindset. I can’t do it, John. I thought about it and for a moment I honestly thought I was going to get sick. I can’t do music and have it not be with the whole gang. You loved that shitty music, and sometimes even I did too. It set the pace for our heartbeats on those dark night rides.

Maybe it’s about time you came back man, we all miss you.

Like I said, no matter how much we fight, you’re always welcome here. If something had happened to you without us talking again, I never would’ve forgiven myself. We all need to learn to figure out this hand we’ve been dealt now.

Maybe just make us a stop on a trip? Come for a few days, maybe it’ll help you out.

I’ll be sure to tell them. I’m sure they understand. You found a fix for one part of the addiction we had been cut off of so harshly.

Sometimes I wonder why. Just kidding, man.

How could we ever forget?

I’m always watching out for you, even if I don’t know where you are. I do it in whatever way I can. I try and be a good older brother even when I’m not sure where you’re at. And maybe that’s the point of life, that we’re all simply outsiders trying to find our place when maybe really, it turns out we don’t have one. Never feel lost, John, because you always have a home, even if you’re not sure it feels that way.

In good news, she has confined him to the garage for most of it. His hours have died down at the firm a lot, he’s really cutting back. I think he’s ready to retire, he just doesn’t want to admit it yet. He needs something to fill his time.

Can you work on that? I was just on the phone with her an hour ago and she said, “John still hasn’t called. Are you sure he’s okay?” There are payphones on every street corner in major cities and one per block in little towns for a reason, baby bro.

So what’d the ticket say?

You’re starting to sound like a girl on me, I’m not your girlfriend man,
Love you anyways,
Stephen