I do love him. I care about him. He's like a brother, almost. He's certainly a friend.

He's in rehab. 

So I'll write him a letter. 

A happy letter, of course. A happy little letter that might make him smile. 

But it will be all lies, because I'm not smiling. 

A happy letter, like those happy times that make us smile. 

Like daisys. 

Daisys, and FORGET ME NOTs.