Dear Joe (Jimi Hendrix)

Dear Joe,

It was two years ago today that you left us. I remember the first time we met. You told me you were a Scorpio, a triple Scorpio. And I was like, "AHHH!" You told me I was much too sweet for your sting and I laughed. That was the moment I knew I liked you.

I was immediately taken by your gentle smile and laugh when we met. You were deep, thoughtful, and most of all kind. In life's journey, we very rarely meet true friends. You were a true friend. Why, how did I know this? You told me off the bat when you thought I was being a moron. Granted, it was most of the time in those days. But still, you always knew the words to get me right back on track. I remember one time I had some stupid scheme. This married dude who liked me was trying to worm his way back into my life. You just looked at me and said, "No, April. Just no." And then in the next breath you asked me if I ever got tired of fucking up my life. It was like a slap to my face with a bucket of cold water for days. But you were a friend and that is why you did that. If you weren't a friend, you would have let me go on my stupid way.

The thing I have to thank you for is that you really got me to write again. In my early twenties when I was high on self-loathing I found myself in an abusive relationship. My former fiance told me my writing was terrible and I dropped the ball in that arena. When you knew me I got a job for a freelance rag that is now defunct and I was writing about my former flames. You look a look at it and called it "dribble." You knew about the telegram job and asked me why I didn't write about that because it sounded more interesting. I told you I had always wanted to write a book but was afraid I wouldn't know where to start. You asked me if I was afraid or just lazy. Then you kept asking me how I was coming along on the book and I kept lying to you and telling you I was really busy on it. Finally I just did it. I spent an entire summer writing.

I also remember how you were like the gay older brother I never had. You always had a pep talk and could put me in the right direction. But you also liked dirty jokes and hot guys too. Walking down the street with you was always a treat because you worked on movie sets and knew everyone. Of course, they were always just as happy to see you. I remember during one of your older brother talks I told you how frustrated I was with my career and you told me to relax and not to push so hard. You told me I was too funny to be passed over. You also told me every time I talked I had a responsibility to be positive because people listened to me.

Two years ago today I was pitching the book when I found out you had died. I know you took your own life and there are a dozen reasons why you chose this action. Although it means you left our world and those that love you are deprived of your company, I understand and respect your decision. I know you have found peace, and that is what I want for you as your friend. Every once in a while, I do visit your facebook page like the trainwreck basketcase that I am to give you updates on my career. It is in part because you were always so proud of me when I did well. It is also in part because in my heart and mind I believe sometimes you come in to read it. However, I know you are in heaven. You were a wonderful person. Yes, you had your issues, who doesn't? But we were lucky to have had you as long as we did. Now God has you and I know you are feng shuiing in heaven. The place probably does need a makeover.

My mother once told me energy is neither created nor destroyed. Every once in a while you do pop up. Sometimes I think I see you walking around Chelsea. Sometimes you appear in my dreams like you did the other night. I was going through some stuff and you talked me out of being my crazy, stupid self. Thank you sweet angel. I am blessed because you were right, I am too funny to be ignored. Things are coming together. The book you got me to write is part of the collection at Barnes and Noble, Brown, NYU, and other places. They want me to speak at some high class places. I mention you in the epilogue by the way. It is becoming an audiobook too. I would have never had the guts to do any of this had we never met. I would have still been a scared twenty-something who's voice had been silenced by low self-worth and bad decisions. While I am grateful to have known you, sometimes it still rips my heart out that you are not here with me in person.

Right now I am crying, destroying my mascara as I write. I am having the successful career you always told me I would have. I also know you would want me to find a guy that treats me well and live happily ever after that isn't married. This past week I collected my six year coins. While you weren't laughing at my quippy speeches or crazy stories you were with me in spirit. Rest in Peace Dear Heart, and don't rip on me for being an old lady when we meet again and wearing Alfred Dunner as well as having wrinkles. Oh, and you better save the good gossip for when I come. We will have an eternity to catch up on.

xoxox
April