Dear Jo

God it’s been so long since I’ve put those words together. Listen, if you have access to music while you’re reading this, there’s a couple of songs I would have you play. The first is Heart of the Matter by Don Henley. Another would be Cohen’s Famous Blue Raincoat. Maybe some Zep like Going to California and That’s the Way for your second read through, or Kind Woman by Buffalo Springfield. There were many others I listened to while I wrote this (cuz I don’t type with ten fingers anymore), but I’m guessing you’ll be done reading much more quickly. The songs are to make this a full multimedia experience but also to describe my feelings while I’m writing. 
Because I’m actually writing to you. 
I’ve written several times before, well, at least to the “Little Jo” that was living inside my mind for a long time. But those efforts were just for me to clear my head, nothing really meant for you. Because It was damn-near a full decade after the last time I spoke with you before I could survive a day without thoughts of our times together brought me low. It took me all that time and more to figure out how or why it all went so wrong for me, for us. Truly, I still don’t really know, but I have enough ideas and theories that I’m satisfied with to create my own answers. So you can relax, because this is not me begging for explanations. 
Then what is it? 
How about a chance for me to say “I’m sorry”. 
First, I’m sorry if you ever felt afraid, threatened or even just frustration at my attentions. I wont’t say I always knew exactly what I was saying or doing, but I can say I failed to think about things from your perspective. I still have a lot of guilt about this. 
And I’m sorry for failing to pick up your hints, of both the “go away” and “come closer” varieties. For a long while, I was struggling with the juxtaposition of words said and what people meant. Now I understand that everyone does, from time to time. I won’t wax poetic about how different (who can know if better or worse) might have been, because despite the particulars I now feel like the grand scheme worked out for the best. I hope you do, too? 
Mostly, I’m sorry that we were unable to remain friends, even though it’s for selfish reasons. You see, Jo, there’s a gap in my history. There’s no one I can talk to about all the great bands I’ve seen, no one to remind me about being the runaway “Honkers’ List” King on 3d/e, no one to laugh about the late night bull sessions, and so on. Sometimes I wonder if it really did go down like I recall…. 
I’ve gotten to the point where I just don’t revisit those times, and as time has passed memories of you have faded. But like tonight, sometimes I dream of seeing you. Sometimes the whole gang is there, sometimes it’s just us. When I awake, I DO try to remember my favourite time with us together: just after our final exams that first semester you came to school. It was probably 3 or 4 in the morning, and you cooked up some KD, we were listening to The Doors, G ‘n’ R and Floyd and for some reason at some point we ended up rubbing macaroni in each other’s hair. Alcohol may have been inovlved…  
You hugged me so hard as we laughed about it afterward, and I try to hold that memory just as tightly now. 
I want to thank you for that moment. 
Pass my regards to Luke, Rob and the rest of your family.