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to me,
as if im writing a letter to myself. i choose to ignore common grammatical purpose, let it all fall out of my fingers and into the keyboard. to me, im sorry i didnt fight as hard as we had hoped. i know we always have this conversation but this time its more like a debate that i cant lose. you know you are very loved right. you know that i have never doubted your strengths your beliefs. you are such a brave woman, even if you quietly fight your way through the norms of society. girls should look up to you on that part.
but not all should follow you because of me. to me who always thought of others more than herself. to me who vicariously lived through other peoples stories and not her own. your parents adored you. you are the only child. what would they think if we ever did anything crazy to ourselves.
we know our parents have given us everything we have asked. but not what we truly wanted. the acceptance. the patience. the understanding. we want to be seen in our vulnerability.
i've seen you cry so many times and watch you throw the excuse of a sad film multiple times. how can we say to those we love that we would be millionaires by now if we had a penny for everytime we thought about disappearing. dying. killing ourselves.
please take a deep breath; im only doing this for us
love, me.
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