Hey. I know you're mad at me. And you're really busy and stuff. I just... um...
I fucked up. A lot. I mean maybe I don't even get how much, I probably don't, but... for all the explanations and justifications I've got, the only one that maybe matters a little is that I'm fucked up and even that doesn't really matter. I should have done a lot different and tried harder in all kinds of ways. I never meant to hurt anyone as bad as I have. It kills me to know I can be like that. You know why.
I don't deserve to ask anything of you, but I have to anyway, just to ask for you to forgive me. I need you. Not even to do anything, I don't care if you do anything, but for a long time, even without me realizing it, you've been something I can't even name, something no one else could ever be, not even Pickles. It's different. You... understand things he never could, not the way you do. Anyway. Just knowing you were there and loved me... that's kept me going, more than anything else.
So. Hey. I'm sorry, Wolf. I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what else to do because I mean I can't hardly think anymore right now, I'm either trying to be some kind of fucking slapstick comedy of a father or making myself sick over this.
I know I have a lot of apologizing to do but I have to start with you because I'm lost if you're not part of me now. I don't want you to do anything, except just... answer me. Tell me to shut up and back off and wait, or whatever, okay. But please tell me something.