Jo's Letter

I had this friend in school, her name was Joanne.

Joanne was really pretty. She was petite, with big blonde hair, big blue eyes, and an infectious smile.

Joanne and I became friends in grade ten. We had a funny relationship, I always felt very protective of her, I felt like I needed to guide her with everything she did. Looking back, I think I mothered her too much, which put a bit of a strain on our relationship.

People used to always ask if Jo and I were sisters. We had similar features, had an unintentional habit of dressing alike and often we were joined at the hip. For awhile we even drove the same car, an early 80's Pontiac Le Mans, hers burgundy, mine grey.

Another similarity, perhaps not a good one, was our taste in boys. I don't ever remember going after her boyfriends, and she didn't necessarily go after mine, but they did go after her. When Shawn and I broke up, he started calling her a lot. At first I thought he called to talk to her about me, but I think it started to become something else. However, thankfully, as far as I know neither of them took it too far. Seeing them together would have been devastating for me. And then about a year after I went out with John, she hooked up with him. They tried to be good about it, they told me right away and said if it was too uncomfortable for me, they would cool it off. It was very hard, but I lied and told them it was okay. Thankfully it only lasted a couple of weeks.

The reason I wanted to mention Joanne, is that she played a part in me cleaning up my act in my late teens. Unfortunately it took me being really stupid, and pissing her off to do it.

Joanne and I were dating two guys that were friends. Scott and Cleatus. We were spending a lot of time together, for the most part hanging out and getting stoned. This was just before I dropped out of highschool. I was not getting along very well at home, I was not begin treated well by my boyfriend, and I was using a lot of drugs. I was getting high before school, during school and after school. Mostly I was just smoking weed and hash, but it was a heavy habit, and I was a mess.

One afternoon, I was out with Scott and Cleat, Joanne was at work. We were heading down Kerr Street in Oakville, where we usually scored our dope. We noticed a burgundy Le Mans headed toward us, and it was Scott who said, "Isn't that Joanne?".

Both Cleatus and I took a close look, and we both could swear it was her. We were shocked, because she had said she could not come out that day, as she was working, and even more shocked to see a guy in the car with her.

I stopped and turned around to try and follow her, but I was not able to find the car again.

For the rest of the day Cleatus was sulking. I knew he really liked Joanne, and he was hurt, thinking that she had lied. This, in my stoned frame of mind got me really upset, and I was anxious to talk to Joanne.

Since we already had made arrangements to meet Joanne after work at her house, we all headed over there that evening. Not long after we got there, I asked Jo to talk in private, and I told her what we had seen earlier that day. She vehemently denied it. She went running up the stairs to Cleat, and was yelling at him, saying it was not fair that he accused her of lying. Hurtful words were said, and Scott, Cleatus and I ended up leaving with the door slammed behind us.

The next day I felt really bad. I started to doubt that it was Joanne I had saw, even though I the day before I had been convinced. I was hoping we could talk at school that day, and I even went sober so I could talk to her in a clear head, but she wasn't there. I called her from a payphone, but she was still so mad, she yelled at me and told me to Fuck Off.

A few days later I received a note from Joanne, one that I have kept all of this time. It's been folded and re-folded, the paper has yellowed, it even has small burn marks in it, likely from the joints I smoked while reading it. Here is a portion of the note, copied word for word.

"Stop accusing me of lying because as far as I'm concerned you are just too afraid to admit that you are wrong! So why don't you just keep your big fuck'n mouth shut. Or I will shut it for you. Everybody thinks you are a 2 faced bitch and all you care about is drugs. Well I hope you have a good time getting fried everyday with your druggy friends. All they are doing is fucking your life up. You look like shit, nobody trusts you. Basically the only friends you have are Scott and Cleatus. You don't know how much this hurts me to tell you but you have to hear it because you are gonna end up dead before the age of 19. I don't know how you could be doing this to yourself. But it is not my concern anymore. I am at the point where I don't want to ever talk to you again. So don't bother talking to me or calling me. Joanne."

It took awhile for me to realize Joanne was right. Unfortunately by that time it was too late for me. Most of my friends were gone, I had dropped out of school, and left home. All I had left was Scott, but he was a disaster in himself.

I kept the note where I could read it and eventually her words really hit a chord. I started to clean up, I stopped getting high daily, and by New Years Eve of that year I quit doing drugs altogether. (this past December 31 made it 15 years clean).

It took a few more years before I had totally cleaned up my act, as I mentioned before I still partied pretty heavily into my early 20's. I had replaced drugs with alcohol, and spent many late nights at the bar, going from guy to guy, or bed to bed. And I did not speak to Joanne again for about 3 years. Funny, like Emma I ran into Joanne at a bar. She was newly married, and my son was just under a year old. We tried calling each other for a bit, but also like Emma I don't think she was too impressed with the lifestyle I was leading. It was still another year or two before I really got on track.

I never told Joanne that I held onto her letter. If I did talk to her again I would like to thank her, I don't know that she would have realized how it affected me. She may not even remember the note. Maybe someday our paths will cross again, you never know.