Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood ★½

Dear Quentin:

By the time you read this i will be long gone. This box in front of your apartment door, this plastic milk crate adorned with sharpie sigils you will never be able to decode because they are idiopathic and this will keep you up some nights into the future more than you will ever admit, that is your stuff from my place. I know couples go through a lot. I know certain stock phrases get pulled out in moments like these, but in this case, it really isn't you, the problem really does lay with me. I chose to look past the red flags, the testimonials from previous exes, the arrogant curl of your upper lip when your opinions are questioned a little too much, because i was able to make myself hear in what you were saying what i wanted to hear in it and let's be honest, you didn't do a whole lot to dispel that process. it was just how i am, just me being weird about stuff, or overly sensitive, but it was in how i responded, through enthusiastic defense, ever-more elaborate rhetorical workings out, 'but its complicated!' i would shout, even as you showed me more and more of who you were every day or, really, in the less and less frequent encounters which felt more and more obligatory, us sitting on the couch kind of apart from each other, acting like nothing is wrong and it is just a good time friday night and first we would argue about what to get on the pizza and then we would argue about what to watch on netflix, endlessly scrolling through options as the pizza gets colder. eventually one of us just goes to bed or gets lost on the phone. you showed me who you were time and time again but i would remember the times when you seemed not to be who you were, at least to me, or you gave a speech that sounded good enough, or we would make up by passionately discussing something we both loved, arguments forgotten, but maybe we didn't love those things in the same ways or for the same reasons. Listen, i know you are older than me and we were mad, but pulling out that 'SJW Snowflake' stuff just makes you seem REALLY OLD, like some dude lost in JC Penney's outside the restroom eagerly liking anti-antifa John Wayne memes on the phone with the oversize buttons and just because you know this about yourself you are torn between embarrassment and adopting it as 'the real punk is telling punks to get off my lawn', but i am not young myself and i wonder what i am doing with my life. it is probably good that you are only making ten films if this one is anything to go by but honestly it is better than most of the rest of them. It was like this argument was the way it was because i didn't understand your position from our last argument and you really needed me to understand and so now i do.

So, about the truck, yes, i stole it, and yes i crossed out that word that you like to use that describes stuff you like and stuff you don't sometimes at the same time so it just says 'WAGON'. There is no way i am going to Phoenix so don't even think about using that needle drop, not like you would anyway because it is too obvious but i love Isaac Hayes version of that song so much. you will find your truck somewhere in the U.S. Southwest a few weeks from now, stripped clean and set ablaze. you can thank me. the insurance pay out will be more than the thing was actually worth.

don't worry - i didn't steal any of the lps you left at my place. they are here in this milk crate along with some $600 designer cutoffs, a gas station pair of aviator shades, and a signed photo of Robert Wagner from 'Hart To Hart', but yeah that first edition copy of The Rolling Stones Aftermath now has a Goat Head Of Mendes Set In A Pentagram on one side but not the other that i helpfully inscribed with one of your many swords from your sword collection. don't worry. i put it back.

i look forward to being colorfully described to your new girlfriend as another in a long series of crazy exes, and here we agree. i was crazy to stay with you for so long. you will imagine me crying listening to that one perfect song for the situation so i won't do it even though i would pick a song that you would hate and will instead fume silently in this truck, listening to the sounds of the tires going over potholes and poor dead animals and white lines in the middle of the night as i get further and further from you.

i'm not even going to sign this

cya l8r

PS: That was MY COPY of Valley Of The Dolls by Jackie Suzann that you asked to read but never returned. u can keep it even though i know you will never read it. like i am going to ask for it back now

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