Dear Alexis

I hope you are well, I miss you so much. I haven't seen you for so long. I have so much to tell you that I don't even know where to begin. Firstly, I finally passed my Art course; you can't imagine the feeling inside as a result. After all those years of literal tears, sweat and blood, I finally made it, and all for an A4 piece of paper! But it was all worth it, and Als, I finished it in style. You should have seen it; looked like it was straight out of a Bollywood movie.

Do you remember Cheryl? Well, she was not the girl of my dreams it turned out. Basically, after the two initial years of me chasing after her like a lost puppy, she turns around and says "I'm really sorry Carlos, but my parents are making me move out the city, we cannot be together anymore." Obviously I tried to fight for her, you know how I am, but nothing I was saying was getting through to her, it was like she was wanting to give up. I left her in the hope of giving her some space, and in the hope of having a little time away from each other would make her realise how much she missed me. I laugh now, but I was a right mess at the time Als, you should've seen me. Two weeks passed and she had not called me. Two weeks! She did not even answer my calls, reply to my texts, emails, nothing. You've been my best friend forever, so let me let you in to a little secret. Yes us men do crumble sometimes, but you will need to bleed us dry before we admit it to anyone. Since you are not anyone, Als I crumbled, and crumbled hard.

I couldn't believe this happened to me. It shouldn't happen to me. Those 12 words, ringing over and over again, as if a broken record, constantly on loop. I couldn't believe this happened to me. It shouldn't happen to me. How could she treat me that way? Did the last 2 years mean nothing to her? I spent day and night, not eating, not sleeping, no contact with the outside world or anything; just a recluse in my own filth. Twin Rivers flowed from their springs unceasingly until valleys were unearthed upon my usual 'hill side' cheeks (I still haven't forgotten that nickname!). I was devastated; I didn't know my lefts from my rights, my ups from my downs. I was just still, in my pig sty of a room, just attempting to flood the earth. That quickly changed though Als, just getting to the good part now.

That conniving little so and so turned out she wasn't actually leaving, she just didn't know how to end it with me. She had been seeing some guy for the last 4 months we were together, and he was forcing her to leave me and be with him. Oh you should've seen it, the day I found out. Do you remember that Bull in Spain in the farm when you wore your red shorts? Imagine I was the bull, and he was the shorts. I couldn't see anything else but his smug face, holding her tight between his legs, kissing her neck. It was like my eyes pinpointed to that, focussed there, and slowly, the image was turning redder and redder. I almost got run over twice trying to get to that park bench that housed his sorry ass. I had my game plan all worked out, right jab, left jab, right elbow, left hook, draw his head closer to my knee and finally a right uppercut. That was just to Cheryl! Ha ha, but all that rage though Als, the whole game plan, the whole image of spewed blood all disappeared when I had got there, right up in their face, and I just looked at her, and realised, I am better off without her. I know it sounds cliché hun, but it really was like a little switch had been pressed in my head, and all I thought was how I was better off without her, how for the previous few weeks, I realised through all the commotion that I am a better person without her. Her face had sunk so low, I wish you could've seen it. The sorry ass tried to eyeball me; I lowered him back down, laughed in her face, and walked off.

I went back home knowing I had a new lease on life, that she was not worth the brief valleys on my face, or all the rage burning up my insides. That day, all I felt was peace. I felt elated. My Cheshire Cat smile permanently engraved on my face, knowing that God would not make me go through any test is he wasn't sure I was capable of passing it, and pass it I did, with flying colour. And yes, pun IS intended.

You must be wondering why I am writing this letter, and not our usual prolonged telephone conversations, but Dr Attenborough at the Rage Clinic has given me a task of writing down my feelings to reduce me seeing red. So far so good.

Als I really do miss you, so when you get this, call me, I don't think I can get used to this writing stuff!

Yours forever,

Carlos Rodriguez