Thank you for everything. Breathe free, Caff.

I don't expect I'll play another game again. Not while I'm alone. Watchin' the credits - which are very long, still playin' as I type - I just felt empty. And then I started cryin' again. Cried my apologies to people who can't hear me. I don't think there's been a more pathetic image than the one sittin' in my room tonight.

I know you don't wanna hear any of this. I know you don't want anything to do with me. I'm sorry for sendin' you another unwanted message. I'm just desperate. I have nobody to share any of this with anymore. Nobody to talk to about this stuff. So, I decided to tell you. I figure it's better you know than for it to die silently in my head, only for me to know.

I apologize for this message. If you read it, thank you. Be well, Josee.

Just finished Cyberpunk 2077 for the first time. Credits are rollin' and music is playin' as I type this.

Started the game way earlier this year. March or April, I think. Accordin' to my save file, last I recall, I was pushin' near 500 hours in this one playthrough. Though GOG says I've spent 614 hours with the game launched. OCD ♥♥♥♥ pumped that timer up.

I can honestly say it's the best game and story I've ever experienced. I love it more than StarWars, Halo, any game or movie or book I've ever known. And yet, I wish I had never touched it. Not at this point in my life, when I've nobody to share it with. Nobody to blame for that but myself.

I cried so much playin' this game. I've become an even bigger baby in the time between when we last heard our voices in a call. Everything makes me weep now. But Cyberpunk, I never should've started it. Not now. Wrong time in my life to. But it's gonna stay at the top of my list, I know that. Nothin' else compares, not for me.

I've accepted that us bein' friends again isn't likely to happen. I've made it clear several times over how weak I am. That's probably the one word which describes me best, weak. And I don't expect you to trust me or anything I say again.

But if you can stomach it, I could do with a conversation again. To hear us talk again, with voices. I'd like that.

If you say no or block me, I get it. I'm a pest. But for what it's worth, I'd appreciate hearin' you again.

Thanks for readin' this when you get to it. Hope you've been keepin' up with your dental, but I'll understand if not. Hard for me, too. Stay safe, Caff.

https://www.altogetherfuneral.com/obituaries/JamesCaraker

Tomorrow will be Dad's 72nd. Birthday. 7 years, 3 months, 10 days since he went.

Dunno if you'd find it strange at this point, but when I think of Dad, I can't help but think of you, too. 'Cause you're maybe the only person in the world who saw what he looked like, but never met him.

I still dunno how you did it that first time. Trackin' me down. I guess you remembered my name from the one or two times I said it.

Nobody had ever reached out for me like that, like you did then. I cherished that feelin'. I still do. But I was too stupid to trust that feelin', to trust that I was important to you, that our friendship was important to you. My fear has always controlled me. Sooner or later, doubt takes me over, and I stop trustin' what I should know is true. That happened with you. I'm sorry. I don't expect you to believe me, but I am sorry.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZH_jDIjWV4