Mickey Milkovich (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andifuckingloveit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2016-03-14 09:03 pm
andifuckingloveit) wrote in muserevival2016-03-14 09:03 pm
Entry tags:
117.2 Muse Prompts: Quotes
"We all get addicted to something that takes away the pain." - Anonymous
Dear Ian,
Ian,
I don't know what the fuck's with that "dear" bullshit anyways. Nobody calls anybody dear anymore except the waitresses at the cheapass diners who pop their goddamn gum while they take your fuckin' order, and then fuck shit up and give you fuckin' oatmeal when you asked for hashbrowns. Fuck it. I never called you no bullshit like dear when we were together. I don't know why the fuck I'd start it now.
I ain't ever written a letter before anyways. Guess you probably figured that shit out, though. The only thing that ever came close was the notes I passed in sixth grade about Mrs. Hartley's tits, and those got me suspended pretty fuckin' quick. Would've probably been even quicker if they'd known I spent more time lookin' at MR. Hartley's dick in gym class because the fuckin' perve always went commando in his sweats. Whatever. I didn't even start this shit to write to you about sixth grade teachers and their dicks or tits. Shit, I don't even know why I started it at all. I know you've got a boyfriend now. Svet told me. Does he call you dear? I hope to fuck not, because what kinda pussy shit is that? But I guess you still don't need your ex writing you letters and fucking that up for you. Don't know what the fuck I think it's gonna do for me, but fuck. Here goes.
Bein' in jail ain't really all that bad, no matter what they tell you. The only part that really sucks about it is I miss the fuck out of you, Ian. I sit in here and drive myself fuckin' crazy wondering if this was all gonna happen anyway, or if they only reason we ain't together is because I'm in jail. Did you already want to move on? I don't fuckin' know, because you won't come here anymore, and you sure as fuck won't talk to me. The reason I'm even in here is because I wanted to protect you... I wanted to protect US and what we had. I guess it don't matter now, because you sound like you're in a pretty good place... New boyfriend, starting a new life. If you can get the hell out, do it before you end up stuck like your sister or me. You deserve better, Ian. Fuck, you always did. Get the fuck out and do better than you ever could here. I get it now. I had no fuckin' right to ask you to wait for me. Why would you? There's a whole fuckin' world out there and you're made for it. Wherever you end up, it has to be better than this shithole or in a fuckin' trailer listenin' to your mom fuck a dude who's barely older than you. You deserve a house, and a boyfriend who stays the fuck outta jail, and whatever in the hell you've ever dreamed of.
I just reread this whole fuckin' thing, and it doesn't make a goddamn bit of sense. This is why the fuck I don't like writing letters. But fuck it. I guess I got it out or whatever that fuckin' therapist used to tell you to do. Maybe I need a therapist, too. I don't think I'm even gonna send this. It's probably better off for wipin' my ass anyway.
I love you. No matter what, I'm always gonna love you.
And tell your boyfriend that, if he hurts you, there won't be attempted involved in what they lock me up for next time.
Mickey
Mickey Milkovich, Shameless [US]
Ian,
I don't know what the fuck's with that "dear" bullshit anyways. Nobody calls anybody dear anymore except the waitresses at the cheapass diners who pop their goddamn gum while they take your fuckin' order, and then fuck shit up and give you fuckin' oatmeal when you asked for hashbrowns. Fuck it. I never called you no bullshit like dear when we were together. I don't know why the fuck I'd start it now.
I ain't ever written a letter before anyways. Guess you probably figured that shit out, though. The only thing that ever came close was the notes I passed in sixth grade about Mrs. Hartley's tits, and those got me suspended pretty fuckin' quick. Would've probably been even quicker if they'd known I spent more time lookin' at MR. Hartley's dick in gym class because the fuckin' perve always went commando in his sweats. Whatever. I didn't even start this shit to write to you about sixth grade teachers and their dicks or tits. Shit, I don't even know why I started it at all. I know you've got a boyfriend now. Svet told me. Does he call you dear? I hope to fuck not, because what kinda pussy shit is that? But I guess you still don't need your ex writing you letters and fucking that up for you. Don't know what the fuck I think it's gonna do for me, but fuck. Here goes.
Bein' in jail ain't really all that bad, no matter what they tell you. The only part that really sucks about it is I miss the fuck out of you, Ian. I sit in here and drive myself fuckin' crazy wondering if this was all gonna happen anyway, or if they only reason we ain't together is because I'm in jail. Did you already want to move on? I don't fuckin' know, because you won't come here anymore, and you sure as fuck won't talk to me. The reason I'm even in here is because I wanted to protect you... I wanted to protect US and what we had. I guess it don't matter now, because you sound like you're in a pretty good place... New boyfriend, starting a new life. If you can get the hell out, do it before you end up stuck like your sister or me. You deserve better, Ian. Fuck, you always did. Get the fuck out and do better than you ever could here. I get it now. I had no fuckin' right to ask you to wait for me. Why would you? There's a whole fuckin' world out there and you're made for it. Wherever you end up, it has to be better than this shithole or in a fuckin' trailer listenin' to your mom fuck a dude who's barely older than you. You deserve a house, and a boyfriend who stays the fuck outta jail, and whatever in the hell you've ever dreamed of.
I just reread this whole fuckin' thing, and it doesn't make a goddamn bit of sense. This is why the fuck I don't like writing letters. But fuck it. I guess I got it out or whatever that fuckin' therapist used to tell you to do. Maybe I need a therapist, too. I don't think I'm even gonna send this. It's probably better off for wipin' my ass anyway.
I love you. No matter what, I'm always gonna love you.
And tell your boyfriend that, if he hurts you, there won't be attempted involved in what they lock me up for next time.
Mickey
Mickey Milkovich, Shameless [US]