Dear mom,
I looked at old pictures of me, and I realized how different I am. I wonder if you would even recognize me anymore if you saw me.
I'm still 5'7". I still wear seven and a half size of shoe. I still have blonde hair and blue eyes. I still love cats and dark chocolate.
But now I wear make up and dark eye shadow. I don't wear glasses. My hair is longer. I'm smarter. I don't wear t-shirts anymore; I wear nice shirts and tight pants.
I like rainy days. I like listening to the radio. I used to hate it, but now I love it.
Change is a part of me. You would probably hate how much I've changed, but I don't. I couldn't just stay where I was forever and expect to be okay.
I needed to change because change is a part of me. I needed to get contacts and skinny jeans because I am like the seasons. I come and I go.
Nature is always always always changing. Always.
I had a dream about you the other night. I dreamed that you came to see me at one of my little sister's concerts.
I missed the whole concert to sit in the foyer and talk to you. I hugged your arm and asked you why you hadn't come to see me more often. Sooner.
You said you were sorry, for not coming more. But you never answered my question. I was just so happy to see you again, to talk to you, to hug your arm, that I didn't care. I spent the whole time hardly speaking and holding tightly to your arm.
It's true that I don't get to see you very often. You never visit my dreams. My dreams, they are the one place I can hear your voice and see your face and remember them. Everything else. Is vague.
So why don't you visit more often? Do you not like the changes? Do you not recognize me? Because I'm not changing back. This is who I am now.
I think the best way to deal with change is to accept it.
Love, Grayson
YOU ARE READING
Break me
Chick-Litwhat 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.
