Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Hey there folks, sorry I haven't been around on here lately, you know how it is. I thought I'd ease my way back in with a letter but expect new chapters of Pushing Charts and Back to the Beginning soon. As it's been a while and I'm a bit out of practise, all reviews are even more appreciated than they usually are. I don't think this is my best work, but I was missing writing stuff on here, so I thought I'd tap something out and see how it went.

Baton Rouge

August 11th 2007

To My Roomie

I'm sorry my last letter was so… I didn't really mean for it all to come out like that, but I guess given the subject matter, it was kind of inevitable. You were absolutely right of course, I wasn't my usual self at all. I'd had a crap day, PT was terrible – I took a bad fall, which hurt like Hell, and they wouldn't let me do any walking for the rest of the session. Then I came home and Mom was nagging me about the state of the room like I was ten years old, and Dad was meant to be coming over and never showed and… you know.

It was just one petty little thing on top of another and I got mad and took it out on you. What with the bad PT session and Mom treating me like a kid, I felt like such an invalid, a cripple, and when I get in a mood like that, all those insecurities that I work so hard to keep in check always creep up on me. All the same, it's good to hear your reassurance. Sometimes I still need it.

I hope I didn't worry you too much with it all. If I did, I'm sorry. And even now you know all that stuff, please don't let it pray on your mind. It took quite a lot of effort to muster up the guts to tell you all that, but I'm glad it's all out in the open, and I'm a bit more okay about it than I sounded in the letter. It's sort of always there, under the surface, but it only rears its ugly head from time to time. I'm certainly not offended by your sympathy, I know in what way you mean it, that it isn't pity.

I want to try to lighten things up a bit, we get to see each other in just fourteen days, and I'm excited as Hell, but before I get onto that, there's a couple of serious things I want to say.

One is; I do trust you. To say I'm back where I was would be a lie, but these letters have meant so much to me, we've both put so much of ourselves into them, that I know we're not going back and that you won't put me through that again. When I gave you the out in my last letter, I didn't expect you to take it; I know we're beyond that now. I'm sure we're going to have a million, much harder, things to face, but I trust you when you say we're going to face them together. I just wanted you to know that. I don't know if you were in any need of reassurance on that point, but I thought I'd say it anyway.

The other thing is… Children. The idea of that doesn't freak me out, not even a little bit. I have to confess, I am a bit freaked out by the fact that I'm not freaked out (if that makes sense!) but when I look at the future – which is a hell of a lot brighter than the future I thought I was looking at a few months ago – and I see us together, maybe with a kid, some kids, whatever, and, well, to borrow one of your admittedly very corny phrases, it makes my heart sing with happiness. I hope that doesn't scare you. To be honest, I don't think it does, I think you were being flippant to try not to scare me

Well, I'm not scared. I love you, and I would be so honoured to be the father of your children. I know I'm jumping the gun by about five or ten years here, but what the hell? We've wasted three years and look where that's got us, so the way I see it is there's no point in beating around the bush, is there? We agreed to absolute honesty, and that's me being absolutely honest (maybe a little too honest). And I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that if I ever had children, they may inherit the manic depression. That I am a little scared about, I admit, but not half as scared as I was that it would be an issue for you.

But enough of the serious stuff for now. Pretty soon (only fourteen days, did I mention that?!) we're going to have the opportunity to talk about things like that face to face. On the subject of things up for discussion, have you had any ideas on places we could move to? I know we agreed to save it for when you came down here, but curiosity is getting the better of me. I have a few ideas, some pretty conventional ones and a couple that I have to admit are a little left field. I don't know if they're really a good idea or not, but I'll wait and see what you think.

I don't know what else to talk about really. I spoke to Brett last night, things are going pretty well in L.A. They're hoping to record an album soon. He, uhh, well, let's just say, we're planning a little surprise for you when you come down here. You'll almost certainly hate it, but annoying you has always been part of the fun!

How's things at work? God, I miss them all. I went for a drink the other day with a few buddies I've made at the rehab center, a couple of patients and a couple of the physical therapists who are younger guys and pretty cool, but even though I had a great time, I couldn't help wishing I was in Ike's with Pratt and Morris. Tell them I say hi, okay? I haven't spoken to them for a while, get them to call me. Whenever I try them, they never answer or are too busy to talk for long – the joys of being an attending, huh? And how's Abby getting along; are things still the same? Is Luka back yet? I hope so.

Look, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut this letter short. I wanted to write pages of incredibly witty and entertaining banter to cheer you up after the dampner I put on things with my last letter, but I'm picking my car up from the garage today. I forgot to tell you, but I've had it adapted so I can get myself around the place and not be so reliant on Mom the whole time. It's still not ideal; because it's an SUV it's too high off the ground to get in and out of with the chair on my own but the chair is only temporary so it'll work out fine. And to be honest, I'm looking forward to just going for a drive. Wherever I want, to just… drive and get out on my own.

Anyway, if I don't sign off now I'll be late, so here's to hoping the next fourteen days are the quickest ever.

Love Ray

PS What are you gonna do about the Doctor Jumbomart thing? I'm looking forward to finding out!