XXVI. "10 Letters: From Lovers, Having Since Departed in Song"

January 2

Dear Michael –

I have come to a decision regarding my suicide; it should be done to music.

Yours, Margot

p.s. And what is your new year's resolution?

February

Margot –

I don't have long to write this; I'm about to go on stage. I'm playing the Tennessee Theater tonight – we're in Knoxville and I'm backstage with the left over catering…it was full of potatoes and cheese melted on top with bacon bits. If I wanted Waffle House food I could have just gone there, you know?

Anyways, I just got your last letter. I was in New York last week and I was able to pick it up.

If you kill yourself to Jeff Buckley or Elliott Smith, I'll slit my wrists and come after you. So fucking unoriginal. Besides, we decided you were over this. Remember?

I had a dream once where I drowned myself in my shower with a shower cap. Wagner was playing, "Ride of the Valkyries" or whatever. It was glorious. I woke up and had to pee.

Don't do it. If you do, I'll do it too. I'll take your cat with me.

Michael

March 7

Dear Michael,

You're a jerk. I know we said we wouldn't talk about it, but I didn't need you to yell at me about it, right in my face like that the other night. So what's the deal now? You come home for three days and then take off right away? Don't say you had a show, you're fucking tour is on your fucking website. You can't hide from the press, Mister Bigshot.

And don't tell me I can't kill myself. I killed once – you know what I mean – I can do whatever I fucking please.

(was) yours,

Margot

April 3

dear margot

i don't know why i am writing this. i just don't know. the doctors said it might help, but i don't know how it could help you. maybe it will help me…i guess that's what they figure will happen. or maybe it's just a way to keep me out of their hair…stop asking questions. i don't know.

the doctors said to just write what i feel. i said i had tried to write about it before but i couldn't. they said it might help just to visit you. they said i could talk to you. they said some research says you can hear me. i told you to fuck yourself and you didn't move. you just laid there and beeped.

i'm sitting here now. you look like shit. bitch.

i love you. you know that.

mike

May 26

Mike –

Went for groceries for the big tour kick off DINNER! If you get home before me, can you take Ginger out? I'll be back around 3, but she'll want to go out if she sees you.

Love plus 1

June 30

Margot –

A postcard from the tour! We're in Omaha, but I sent this from Bismark…stopped to see if they have accents in the Starbucks there…they don't. Sad.

Love plus 1 – M

September 14

M –

I can't do it anymore. I'm done.

You're playing now…the song…

I'm sorry – plus always and forever – M

October 16

m –

this time i know it won't make me feel better to write a letter. but i know you will want it. or you would have.

i don't forgive you. i want you to know that wherever you are. it's fucking hard for me too. all of it. what we did three years ago, what you did wednesday. it's all fucking hard and you fucking gave up on it all. i don't forgive you but i think i understand. just know that you were a rock for me…even when we hated each other. the only reason i can't come right after you, the same way, the same place…i won't give you the satisfaction.

i can't say you were the only one for me. if i say that i will be too lonely to move.

and all i do is wonder what part of the song you heard last.

love plus so many. m.

November 13

m –

it's been almost a month. i had to write this. i am going to burn it. i hope it gets to you that way.

i'm back in seattle. i moved back. i couldn't stay in new york…it felt like it had become our house. it was like that Elliott smith song – "everything reminds me of her" life has been shit. i can't finish the record. phil is pissed and is threatening to cut us so the guys are doing what they have to and away all the time so we can't rehearse. every time i try to play i start to play and wonder if it sounds how it did for you when you heard it last. i'm terrified you hated it. you never said.

i'm trying to find something worthwhile. i hate you for leaving me like this. it's the most intense i've ever felt. fucking hate and fucking love…fuck

December 25

Dear Margot –

I have come to a decision regarding my suicide; it should be done to music.

Yours, Michael

p.s. Merry Christmas.