Dear Daddy,
I miss you, but you don't miss me. You don't call, you don't text, you don't reach out. You and I chose to lead separate lives but for what? What good came out of our decision? I wonder what my life would be like right now if we hadn't cut ties, if you would have just reached out. I miss you daddy. I miss you when I'm sad and I don't have your shoulder to cry on. I miss you when I'm happy and I can't tell you the good news. I miss you when I'm depressed because I know you could fix it. Also I'm sorry.
I'm sorry it had to be this way. I'm sorry that you things didn't work out and you felt the need to move on. I'm sorry that growing up other things occupied your time and you couldn't see us. I'm sorry that we weren't good enough for you. I'm sorry that I moved away....
Family
My boyfriend is an angel. For eighteen months he lived with his Grandma, Linda, her four dogs and one cat. When her time came, it came swiftly. Linda was a tough woman with a big heart and a beautiful sense of humor. Rather than a wake, it was her wish for her family to have a comedy roast for her. I never actually met Linda but I knew I would have liked her very much based on her last wishes.
My boyfriend has lived in her former home and cared for her babies. Unfortunately, my boyfriend works six days a week and is still recovering from grief. His family is finally selling the house and will close escrow in a month and a half. The thought of these sweet dogs ending up in a shelter because everyone was either too busy or still grieving broke my heart.
When his Aunt came out to tie up...
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I have a lot of cousins, but I’m really close to my mom’s sister’s kids. There is a girl and a boy. They would come down from where they lived every summer and every Christmas. Until recently I always dread them coming down or is going up there to visit them because my cousin that’s a boy molested me when I was 6. I remember the day it happened, I had done something I was told to stop doing and I started doing it again, and he told me he wouldn’t say anything to my mom if I let him do something. I was young and didn’t know what he meant. So he would put his hand down my pants while we were in the living room at night, he would put his hand down there for a long time and would rub and finger and do nasty stuff that younger me didn’t know what it was, I remember the first night it happened...
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I just watched an episode of Fresh Off The Boat. The Grandma had challenged the self perception of the oldest son by comparing him to the "soft" rapper out of the mixed tape of rap that he had created to "ease" her into rap music so that she would be able to enjoy it with him. When he denied her comparative analysis vehemently, she reminded him that he "freaks out" when the gas tank is half empty.
The episode concluded this story line with the oldest son taking the car out on his permit license without his grandmother while his parents were out of town on vacation. As you may have already surmised, he ran out of gas trying to prove his grandma wrong and had to walk home.
Upon his arrival, his grandma was there waiting for him in the driveway. The oldest son confessed what had happened...
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It has been several years since your father and I split. But I want you to know I think about you every day. I miss you all the time. I worry about you. I stalk your dad’s facebook just to see if he posts any pictures of you. Much to my disappointment, he rarely does. But from what I have gathered you just keep getting taller, and your hair keeps getting shorter and with many different colors. You have grown into a young lady. But I will always remember you as the little girl that always wanted me to tuck her in, and give her a million hugs. The little girl that never forgot to say “I love you!” before hopping out of the car at parent drop off. The little girl that turned our living room into a giant fort with me... our selfies... our at home spa day... the homework and library...
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I still remember it, I really do. No matter how many times you pull your hair out over my forgetfulness, I remember walking to the supermarket with both your hands in mine. I remember the gentle laughs and encouraging smiles you shared with me as you left me on my first day of school. I don't want to feel like the bad guy. That's why I hold on to the things that matter and never let go, so no one tells me I didn't care enough to even try. But now when I recall those memories it feels like a punch in the stomach. If only you knew that I locked the bathroom door and cried whenever you criticized me. If only you knew that the countless hours I poured into looking for counseling chat hotlines that didn't cost a penny. If only you knew how isolated I feel, knowing that how much I try, it feels...
1,759
So, living in a middle class family... it's pretty hard to meet up to their expectations. Everyone is either a cashier in an average supermarket trying to feed her babies, a physical therapist who have no dreams to have her own family rather than from where she started , a 19 year old boy who's working for himself only. I was so left out even when I was a child. Its devastating to lose your huge mansion, stable future and your parents at the same time. Living all with my siblings and an abusive guardian while my parents were working hard for us to be able to go to school... it was tough. Being the spoiled kid that I am, i wasnt satisfied of the life I was having at the moment. I wasnt just like my siblings who dreamt of one thing since they were children. I had one that I actually love...
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Dear mom,
You hurt me. You hurt me in every possible way you could hurt someone. You hurt me when I was in elementary school when I'd see your car pulling away as the bus pulled up to our house. Not a single wave goodbye. You hurt me when I was in middle school when I'd see you cry everyday about being depressed because you were home so much. You wanted to leave while I was so happy to see you. You hurt me when I was in high school when you blamed me for all of our family issues. You hurt me again when you made me choose sides during you and dad's divorce. You hurt me everytime you didn't come home and dad would take his anger towards you out on me. You didn't protect me. You hurt me when you brought a new man into the house barely a month after dad moved out. You hurt me...
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To my dearest little sister,
How I fucking hate you. The way you rummage through my room, taking the clothes that we assumably “share.” The way you use your “I’m the younger sister” card to weasle your way out of chores. The way you walk when you get irritated, stomping around as if to punch holes in the floorboards. The way demand to go to Target late at night and end up buying nothing. The way you talk back because you think you’re always right. But the thing is you’re not, and being a 22 months older and 22 months smarter, here’s my advice to you.
I know that by this point you’re probably pissed that I am writing about you for my English class, but just shut up and let me explain.
1. Take your time.
Remember when we were younger and we used to spend our summers at mom’s beauty...
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Dear Dad,
Please hear me.
I look at you in admiration. I see my dad who taught me how to ride a bike. I see my dad who used to make me cry out in laughter when he’d be a crazy driver or make that goofy laugh. I see my dad who guided me down the right path and who was so quick to reroute and forgive me when I strayed. I see my dad whose intelligence I could only strive for.
That is what is so confusing to me; you gave me your smarts, you taught me the meaning of benevolence (both literally and practically), and you showed me that I can achieve anything. But to teach something, you must know it first yourself right? So how is my dad so blind and helpless to the man that has taken over?
I look at that man who is awoken with alcohol with despise. I see a man who cares of no...
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