Dear ________________,
Mom, I realize you're never going to read this. I realize you're never going to read about how I think the universe is screaming at me to let go of you, and you're never going to read about how I've started chewing my fingernails again.
You're never going to see me start college, just like you didn't see me start high school. Or see me graduate from high school. You're never going to know how I feel about anything, and you're never going to stroke my hair and tell me that everything is going to be okay.
Somebody else will.
Somebody else
will read all of my secret thoughts and pretend to care.
Somebody else will see me move on in life and be there for me. Somebody else will hug me when I'm crying and tell me everything wilil be okay. But you won't.
So everything I write to you isn't really to you. It's to someone.
And who is someone? Me? Maybe. My cat? Sure. The mold growing in my shower upstairs? Why not. I don't have all the answers.
YOU ARE READING
Break me
ChickLitwhat do you do when you can't stand to look at that page anymore but you can't turn to a new one? color over it and make a new picture.
