Hey Jules,
It's my 16th birthday today. CeCe and Bullfrog got me a hearse instead of a real car. You would love it, Jules. It's big and it kind of smells and it's that perfect shade of black that we both love. The Speakers are amazing! Bullfrog had one of his friends at the radio station put in these great high def speakers instead of the nasty, crackly funeral ones. I think I'm going to name it Morty.
I really wish you were here, Jules. It's my second birthday without you and it sucks. This was supposed to be our year. We were going to run away together, go to Vancouver, and live out the rest of lives together. But then I killed you.
Everyone tells me it's not my fault, your death. My mom, my dad, my therapist. Did you know they make me see a therapist now? Yeah. Ever since I tried to "kill myself", I have to go three times a week with Dr. Johnson.
It sucks. Every time we meet, he flat out asks me why I attempted suicide (which I didn't. I just had some anger to get out). And every time I answer, "I didn't." The only thing he's suggested so far that actually made sense was to write a letter to you. And that's what I'm doing no.
I think I'll keep doing this. It was kind of relaxing.
I love you,
Eli