Majorca Flats -- 224

Gups,

You're right. I won't listen. But it's weird. Last night after I got your email, I had the strangest dream. I've been having these recurring nightmares about Brent, seeing his body, his head blown apart, the blood and brains and stuff everywhere. But last night I dreamt that Brent came into my bedroom here, and sat on my bed, and smiled at me. He spoke to me. I can't put what he said into words, because it wasn't as if we spoke English but he smiled at me and it was quite obvious he loved me and forgave me. I will always live with the wrong I did. But just seeing him again, knowing that he still loved me, has helped me so much. I say “knowing” even though it was a dream, because it seemed so real. Maybe it was just some figment of my subconscious. But I believe it was real.

The Laird Hotel beer garden

I don't see how mum and dad can stop you going to Australia or even comment about it. You earn your own living now, and you're old enough to do it. So, if you'd like to come, come! I'd love to see you.

I should tell you that I'm not using any of my money from the trust. I decided that it had perverted my judgement and helped lose me Brent, so I am a working man now. And poor with it. At the pub I work (a gay pub!) my hours are long and I work late at night. But I feel so proud working for every penny I spend. I've even managed to save a bit! I'll need some money because I want to go to and see New Zealand because it's supposed to be so beautiful but also because I can only stay here 6 months before my visa expires. And two months of that have already gone by.

Write soon.

Love

Jace

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