***Warning: Extreme Sarcasm.***
"Who's the one person you talk to?" she asked. "You know, that one person who knows everything about you."
"I don't have one." I stated bluntly. "I don't do that."
She took a moment to think.
"You know that's not healthy?"
No shit Sherlock.
"If you can't openly discuss your problems with your friends, then they're not true friendships. You're not really being a good friend to them."
Yeah, 'cause that's my first priority in life.
"I wish you could be like your sister. College has really helped her to make good relationships.
Wish I could be like her too, she's not a screw up.
"It's just not healthy to bottle things up Rose."
Ha. Me? Bottle things up? Oh darling you have no idea what you're saying. Don't I wish I could be like my perfect sister. Don't I wish I could trust someone enough to talk to them about real things? Don't I wish.
See these past sixteen years have given me enough practice to now have a finely toned ability to bottle things up. But I mean, I didn't do it all on my own. How very rude of me for not thanking you; mom, dad, I really couldn't have done this without you.
The alcoholism and drug abuse in my early years were crucial in building the foundation for my abilities, so thank you. Yes, I almost told one of my kindergarten friends of dads DWI, but the remembrance of moonlight arguments while I was "asleep" told me that trust did not exist. Your attempts to keep that from me only encouraged the secret keeping so that by the time therapy was forced during your divorce my lips were stitched shut. Love you mom and dad. A special thanks goes out to mom. Those therapy sessions were made even more relaxing by your beady eyes staring me down the entire time. A sugary tone coaxing me to "Go on Rose, talk to this nice woman." pulled the stitches tighter. Really can't thank you enough mom. But let's not forget about dad, wouldn't want to leave anybody out of this acceptance speech. Dad I would like to thoroughly thank you for encouraging the many vicious insults spewed by my sisters. My seven year old mind attempted to find fault in my loving mother so that I may fit in at your house. At dads house, mom was thrown under the bus, but go to moms and it all suddenly stopped. Our theme of hiding things continues.Thank you father.
I excuse myself but in order to maintain a stable psyche and limit feeling I must prohibit myself from discussing most recent years, and the encouragement I have felt lately.
Thank you mother and father for the foundation you built, I could not have made it any stronger had I done it myself, and I will continue to carry on your legend though I'm afraid no one will know of it due to my tendency to bottle things up.
