Growth…that’s what you’re calling it? I slave over these letters to remind you of your roots…and you insult me with growth! The only thing different about you is you’ve gotten better at pretending.
I’m real because I feel with my eyes open. I smell with my nostrils flared and grab with both hands. You do hate yourself. That’s why you coined yourself a “mannequin”, remember?
Only you can dress the New Jarred. The old one could move on his own and didn’t need clothes. He was unattached to this world.
My Brother knew Asthma; its grip and how it makes you starve until you become another man. The Old Jarred knew Asthma’s empty.
Right now you’re pretending, because somewhere along the line you got guilty. I’ not worried about you, though. I tried for you. Asthma’s attack will rip you, I’ll be there with the stitches, and you’ll remember. You’ll get it.
Until then…this is a real farewell to the fakest version of you yet.