Break me

III

Mom,

I realized that you and I are both wallflowers. I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and honestly, I was disappointed by it.

But really, everyone is a wallflower. Some, like me, are bigger than others, but that's okay because there have to be big wallflowers in order for there to be little wallflowers. Everyone is a wallflower because everyone gets lonely at some point, and everyone gets hurt.

I was comparing you to my sister and explaining to her that her problem was like yours. You would use up all of your niceness on other people and would forget to give it to me. And my sister got so mad, saying how dare I say you were mean. She said you were never mean.

Well, it's not that I want to disrespect your memory. And I know that's all my sister wanted. She wants to have this perfect memory of you as a perfect person, but that's not true. You yelled and screamed like any other person I know, and you could be mean sometimes. Like the time you called me fat and didn't care that I cried.

But we all have our wallflower moments where we don't care about anything and where we would be better off hanging on the wall. I'm not saying it's okay not to care, but I think it's okay to be a wallflower every once in a while . . . if that makes any sense.

I do tend to say a lot of things that don't make any sense anymore.