Dear Jack...

Dear Jack,

Life is not easy, and yours is no exception.  Your friends are...different.  I was going to say retarded, but I worry quite a lot about appearing crude or insensitive.  I worry about even offending someone.  But this letter is not about me.  Just from me.  It's about you.  I'm writing you because, well, I'm worried about you.
At the end of the play, "The Boys Next Door", it is everyone else who acts as though their worlds are falling apart.  They are devastated.  But in a year or two, maybe a matter of months, I really think they'll learn to get over it.  But you, Jack, I wasn't so sure...
Arnold tells you on page 64: "I'm lost on my way to Russia..."  But I really think that you are the one lost on your way to Russia, not Arnold.  Are you going to be able to get along with out Arnold, Lucien P. Smith, and Norman.  You love them, ya know...  I can tell.
And what about Barry?  Will you ever stop thinking about how he sits in that institution, so far sunk into depression and cynicism, that he could be lost to his ruined self-image for the rest of his life, and no one outside those four mental hospital walls will ever know or care.
And so, as you embark on the next chapter of your life, Jack, I really do care, and I really do wanna know: Are you gonna be able to make it?
You've shared in so many special moments, so many wonderful memories with these four wonderful people.  But what are you willing to learn from them?
You can learn that this life that we stress so recklessly over is not meant to be such a chore.  We're meant to have fun, and take each second for what it's worth.
You can learn that, even when you're so confused (like Lucien), when you get so discouraged (like Barry), when you feel like running away from it all (like Arnold), or when that one special person feels like an eternity away sometimes (like Norman), life goes on.
Stay safe and pursue God's will, Jack.  It will never steer you wrong.

Zac Smith =~)