April 16, 2018 Email to Jeff
Well, I tried to off myself again. I went to a new "spa", Our Lady of Peace. They put me on a new med, they added the new med to the six I already take for anxiety, depression, and bipolar. I'm sure this time it will work. What do you think? Pills do have magic. Do pills have magic?
Well, as I do every Monday, pretty much come hell or high water, I email you to wish you a good week. I email you in the hope, the remote hope, that you read my emails and care what is happening in my life, care about me. I don't want you to be in love with me. I never wanted that. But I'm not sure you ever heard that. I just wanted for us to be friends, that loved each other as friends, on email, for always. I think maybe I had that for a while. But I think then I just made you tired. I get that. I make a lot of people tired. I don't mean to.
Forklift Frank is relentlessly pursuing me. It's very nice. He's a very nice man. But again, scared to death to see his penis. I'm convinced it's the size of a Vienna sausage. Terrifying. Or a Gecko Pickle? That's what you called one once, right?
Janson still wants to fuck me even though he knows I'm crazy and just got out of the nuthouse. Again.
"Everyone has something they are dealing with," he says. Very astute and very kind of him.
Then he says, "I sure would like some fresh pics of those big hanging tits." I respond, "You're the photographer with the long lens..."
He actually is a photographer. Like, the kind that sells his photos on the internet for real kind. I am hoping he has a long lens. We were supposed to go out last week but I stood him up for the nuthouse...
Well, Jeff, I still love you, deeply madly and rather awkwardly obsessively. But it's getting better. Mostly I just miss your emails. I hope someday you will email me again. Your silly emails made me really happy.
Have a great week.
Much Love,
Coco
[Originally published 7/28/2022]