Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

I am leaving. Please do not try to find me at this time.


I have about four of these notes saved from this past summer when I would pack up all my camping gear and head for the mountains. Recently I decided I would simply keep it all in my car for a while and haul it around. On one of these trips, I was seriously desperate to find a solution, suicidal without a plan other than to camp — to hide — and I kept asking myself over and over again, “What happened?”

Taking dictation, I was given what I now think are explanations. It seems the more time passes and the more grounded I become, parts of it are coming together.

I don’t recall what I originally titled this one, I’ll call it “Chris – The Deuce”.

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