Hey (friend at home). 
I haven't called you these past few days because I don't like calling you for only a second. 
I've committed too much to too many people the past few weeks, and I'm watching people get let down left and right.  It feels ugly. 
I must learn to say no.  We all do from time to time. 
I am learning how I say yes out of brokenness--by not wanting to see anyone alone, hurt, or troubled, because I know how it feels, I will often override my subconscious or conscious in order to make an effort.  My efforts run out at their witts' end.  And there are dissappointed people in the wake--all because I wanted to rescue, save or not let anyone down. 
I make the choice each day to admit my short comings and pray for help. 
I make the choice each day to not overreact and say no to everything, never saying yes.  Instead I choose to keep trying to find the balance. 
I choose to seek Christ today, no matter how many times I've smudged his image in me. 

This is not just a general conversation, but it affects you specifically.  You are in my life.  You know the details of this conversation via stories and experiences.  I trust that our loving friendship overpowers the crap and lack of our relationship.  But it doesn't always save me from feeling it.  I feel it.  And I don't always know how to respond. 
This past week, I have chosen to try to do as much as I can, and own up to what I can't, but that still carries challenges, hurts, dissappointments, even with all the great exchanges.  So, know that I'm not shutting you out.  I'm not abandoning you.  I'm not ignoring you.  I love you.  And I hope to truly be there some time soon. 
I haven't found a good way to get home this Christmas.  I don't think I'll get to hug you in person--not this month. 
My CD is going to be done soon.   It is an encouraging humble starting place, and I'm excited to share it with those who know the timeline of my development in art, faith, and humanity. 
I wrote you something.  I hope to mail it to your address soon. 
I haven't spoken with (other friend at home) lately either.  I wrote him a letter also.  I'd rather just sit down and talk with him. 
When all my past reads go, go, go, and all around I hear go, go, go, more, more, more, I am amazed when in the breakdown, below the signals, I find a reminder to slow down, pray, rest, wait for tomorrow to come when it comes, and live today without fear or worry, casting my cares on the One who actually does care and chooses to act on it from time to time. 

It's Christmas--quit stressing about green and red clothing, unnecessary baked goods, plastic decorations, status expectations, and digital voices.  I almost forgot about Jesus--almost.  I'm not offensive.  I'm not careless.  I'm not a religious biggot.  I'm not status quo.  I'm not chiche.  I'm not ambiguous.  I'm not political, let alone politically correct.  I'm a man, with a penis, a mind, a heart, a spirit, a soul, hormones, brain chemistry, dreadlocks, a European nose shape, blue eyes, different sized feet, scars, a broken vertebra in my spine, an odd ability to immitate foreign accents, and a sensitive emotional composure.  And when it's Christmas, I get fed up with the bull-shit.  I shut down from all the orders of religiosity and I yearn for face to face interaction with the Divine and with loving friends,  maybe even some wool socks and warm food. 
I love you (friend at home), my sage of prayer, my encouragement, my pupil, my teacher,
Garret