If I could send a letter to myself,
I would tell myself not to stay so late,
Id tell myself to say I love her and leave instead of staying locked in her arms, too warm and comforting to break away.
If I could write a letter to myself I suggest taking the long way home because I haven't been that way in awhile and miss the views of the wide open fields and grass swaying back and forth at the will of the wind.
I'd tell myself not to underestimate the dark and how deceiving it could be, that I should drive with my brights on incase something were to appear.
I'd remind myself of everything my dad had taught me about driving, don't **** the wheel, don't over correct, you drive an SUV.
I'd tell myself that hearing mom bawling is absolutely crushing, and that the memory of her cries will keep me up so late that I will begin to believe that she is laying next to me.
I'd applaud myself for driving myself insane with thoughts of all the terrible possibilities when I get behind the wheel. I'd applaud myself for being able to handle being strapped to a seat upside down in the middle of a road that I had driven so many times that I could drive it blind.

If I could send myself a letter, I'd tell myself to stop looking at the scars.