A Letter to Myself

Trying to Change

Mom's phone rang the second she pulled into our driveway. I was surprised to see her answer it, considering who was on the other line.

"Claire, baby, hi there!" I could hear the conversation because Dad spoke so loudly.

Mom scoffed. "What do you want, Mark?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for…"

"That's what you always say, Mark. I don't believe it anymore."

"I mean it this time, honey! Really, I…"

"That's what you always say. You already ruined Janessa's day, I don't want you ruining mine."

"But I can turn things around, baby! Just bring her over…"

"I don't want my child anywhere near you! When I said I you'd never see them again, I meant it." Jennie shouted some useless objective words.

"Your child? You mean our child." Finally I could hear some anger in Dad's voice.

"No, I mean my child. Maybe if you paid child support, things would be different."

I was sick of hearing my parents argue, so I finally went into the house.

Why did they always have to fight? I pondered, watching Mom through my bedroom window. Sure they're divorced, but that doesn't mean they have to always fight. I wish they could work things out. That was an understatement. What I really wanted was for them to love each other like they used to.

I flopped back in my bed. Why were things so hard? I decided that I needed to take a good, long nap so I'd stop thinking. So I rolled on my side and tried to drift off into a beautiful dream.

Try as I might, I couldn't even keep my eyes shut for three seconds. Every time I did, that scene appeared in my mind. Consider this the last time you see my children. Inside, I wanted to see him again. The old him. The kind, sweet, generous him that Jake and I remembered. The him that would drop whatever he was doing to satisfy our needs. The him that would never let a night go by without telling us one of his original stories. The him that Jennie never got to know.

Maybe that was why Jennie forgave Dad for everything he did. Maybe it was because she didn't know how nice he was before drugs transformed him.

I needed to stop thinking. It was too much for me. I pried my eyes open and took a quick glance around the room. That's when I saw the letter.

It wasn't too unusual. I mean, I saw letters every day. But I swore I already read one that day. Still, I managed to walk to the other side of the room to grab the letter.

To my surprise, the letter was in an envelope. I never did that. My name was neatly printed dead-center. I never did that. I wondered if I should have opened it. Since it was obviously "sent" to me, I slowly ripped the envelope open.

The white copy paper was neatly folded in thirds, even though less than one third of it had writing. I was starting to worry. Who was this letter from? What did they want? The only way to find out was to read the letter.

Dear Janessa,

Hello. I'm sorry you're not happy. I think you should make some more friends. Do you want to become more popular? Well then have a little confidence! Smile! And talk. Stop hiding in the shadows. No one will ever notice you with the way you're acting. You may think I'm stating the obvious, but I need to so that you DO SOMETHING about it.

My jaw dropped straight to the ground. Who in the world was this person? I double-checked for a signature, but with my luck there was nothing. This was just too weird. Why was a total stranger giving me advice?