Dear Gallagher,
First, congrats on not getting your ass shot off yet. A year and a half is an accomplishment. I guess. Well, you probably think of it as one, so yeah.
Second, fuck off. Yeah, I wrote you a letrer. Figured you deserved a prize for living. Don't get too excited or expect another one. I admit it, I still miss you. There, I said it, now take that fuckin grin off your face.
After a year and a fucking half of you being wherever the hell this letter got sent, your face has engrained itself in my mind no matter how badly I don't want it to be.
Mandy and your siblings most likely told you about me livin with them for the past year. A few months ago I bought myself an apartment. Finally getting my space from the cramped shithole you call a house. I figured that when you come back you could move into the apartment if you wanted, like I care. And I finished community college. Got a second job working as a mechanic. Stealing car parts got me somewhere after all.
I guess I sorta like your family. They're tolerable. Just so you know, Fiona is fucking scary as shit, and Debbie is clingy as shit. I used to think Carl was a sociopath. He still is, but now I kinda like having someone to teach things to.
Do me a favor and get home with your ass in tact. These fucking dreams or nightmares or whatever have been bugging the hell out of me, so I figure that means you need to get back to Chicago as quickly as you can.
-Mickey
P.S. Firecrotch, I might kinda sorta maybe love you. Don't be a fuckin bitch and cry some damn tears of joy over it. Oh, and Lip grew some balls and proposed to Mandy.