Bechongas

Opening a business was a dream of yours that I pushed you to pursue. You rented your own little therapy house, then decorated it in a way that was soft, warm, charming, retro, and perfectly you.

Since you achieved it before you died, I won’t say it was too late per se… You were going out of this life in the blaze of glory trying to build a company— chemo be damned, bald ass head, no eye lashes, scaring the children.

Just kidding. You were timidly worried about scaring the kids, but I’m sure you didn’t. You were a hairless, radiant wonder. xx

I’m proud of you, and I blame you for this next part.

I’ve never been able to let a reasonable amount of fear stop me from doing exactly what I want to do. It’s a blessing, because it’s allowed me to be like, “I hate this town. I’m going to live in Germany for a bit,” and “JSU bores me; I enrolled in the Creative Circus…” (one year later) “Hey world! I’m going back to JSU to finish my degree, because GUESS WHAT? I’m knocked up, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to marry THAT GUY!”

You get the point.

I’m over here starting my own business, and it’s far from the first time that everyone is looking at me like I don’t know what the fuck i’m doing, and like I’m going to fail.

You created this crazy beast. This woman allergic to “No,”who can’t be told what NOT to do or what to do.

If y’all want this dream of mine to die, you better be ready to kill me with it. If I lose some fingers building pallets, I hope I’m left with two stubby middle ones, so I can tell everyone to F off.

<3 Sending your love to Bethy & CE; we’re in H-town <3