Last week we only talked on the phone once. That is unacceptable. In fact, this whole “living away from each other” thing is just not working out. Ten months in Germany was enough. These three months have been fun and all, but I miss you too much.
Since you guys don’t have an open room for me, I’ll just have to come sleep with you and Dad. Don’t worry. I know you like to sleep on the right side and Dad on the left, so I won’t take your spots. I’ll sleep right in the middle. You won’t even notice that I’m there. Won’t that be fun? Then we can be with each other all of the time! Just like when I was little! And you can make me french toast and hot chocolate again. Or bread and jam. And maybe I’ll let you brush my hair. And I guess you can kiss me. I think I’d be okay with that.
Mom, I grew up too fast. I miss you. I miss talking to you. I’m not ready to be without you. I’m not ready to be by myself. And I know that’s unfair to say to you, Miss Wonder Woman, out of all people. But I didn’t know that filling out that scholarship application was signing my childhood away at 15. I wasn’t supposed to move out at sixteen and come back seventeen, feeling all grown up and ready to be out in the world. I’m not ready.
Mom, I’m trying every day to be a good person. Sometimes I feel my heart will crumble because of how much love I have for people and nature and animals and things. That is your doing, and I thank you for that. I really really try to be a warm-hearted person—someone who makes others happy. But it’s hard to come home after a long day and not have you here. I need to tell you stories and see your reactions. I need to complain. I need to say “shit” once in a while and still have you love me. I need to have my grumpy moods. (And gosh dangit, I need to tell you about my tattoo cravings, cause right now I REALLY want a tree tattoo on my back!!)
Mom, don’t make me grow up.