My organization, cleaning, and housekeeping methods are neurotic as hers.
Most of all, thank you for being my dad when the real one couldn’t do the job. It wasn’t your job to do but you did it anyway and I will always be grateful to you for that.
I miss my innocence. I miss feeling invincible. There is a small part of me that will always be frozen in time at fifteen, praying that things will turn out differently. I am still learning to be okay with that.
I’m not crazy about Joni Mitchell.
I believed that deep inside you were a good person, who could love her daughter, and support me as I figure this out. I was wrong.
To truly think about the depths of a mother’s love is breathtaking: she literally loves you before she even knows you and continues to love you before you even love yourself.
But most importantly dear mother, I apologize for leaving you, promising that I will come back after 6 months but never living up to it.
Unlike those parents who try to force their children onto a pre-approved life path, my mother has always given me the space I need to be myself. She doesn’t try to change me or pressure me into doing things that I’m not into.
It’s a strange, terrible and tragic thing, essentially just waiting for someone to die.
Your hug still warms me up the most and my tears somehow dry faster in your arms. I love you because your love is still and will always be the greatest love anyone has ever given me.