These problems are way bigger than me
Dear Mom,
You will never see this letter, and that makes me incredibly sad. I don;t know why we can't communicate, or where the problem originates from. I wrote you a letter once, as I have never really been able to say how I feel. It was with crayon on the back of an envelope. I left it on your dresser, but we never talked about it. Incidently, that was also about a boyfriend of yours at the time, one who I disliked very much for no good reason. This letter is less selfish. I would like you to know how upset, astonished, and angry I am that Tom broke up with you. And how I feel forever guilty for being a brat about it in the first place. Although I never seemed happy for you I fully was. I had weird resentment, for stupid reasons, and apparent jealously over new son, but I was always sincerely happy that you had put yourself in a poistion where you were finally treated right. I could tell how happy you were because you started saying "I love you" right after you first starting dating Tom. Although it was awkward to say that to each other after never saying it I soon came to really appreciate it.
I don't know how it would make you feel to see me crying so hard for you right now. It could make you more sad, or it could offer some comfort. I know you understand my apprehension about letting you know I am sad. Erin told me how you were sobbing while sitting at the computer the night I found out I didn't get in to Hampshire. I would not have ever known you felt my sadness if she did not relay what she saw.
I feel so guilty for acting so selfish. I always thought about me in terms of your new life, and how it isolated me and made me feel uncomfortable in my own house. I didn't let the fact that you were finally happy stop me from thinking about my own comfort level. I am so sorry. Now that it is all gone, now that all the people you love and have surronded yourself with are all taken away, now that all the expensive and new things intruding on our house are taken away and have nothing to replace them, now that we will have to move to a house we can afford....now I can see how good it was before.
You took me out to a fifties dinner for lunch. The food was awful, and the restaurant was too open and empty kind of resembling a theatre set. We talked about how your life was falling apart so suddenly and unexpectedly while 50s pop played in the background. It kind of made sense that way-The 50s had that facade of pretending to be okay when really everything was crumbling around you, and I feel like the cheesy nostalgia 50s dinners go for now had the exact same feel to them at the time. We laughed instead of crying about your loss of a job and a boyfriend-of a life more or less.
What I want you to know is that I feel your pain as much as if were mine. I can't stop crying, and I don't want to do anything to get my mind off of it, I don't want to talk to anyone, or leave, or do anything except sit with you so you know you are not alone.
But you won't know that. And when you say something about it I will just shrug my shoulders and grimace, because I can't speak about it to you. I am so overwhelmingly hurt for you right now, but there is nothing I can do. I think you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for though. Maybe we should get out of this town of judgemental PTO housewives anyway. Maybe it will all work out, right? I mean if I were to talk to anyone about this I am sure that's the sage advice they would give. Everything is falling so quickly... I am sorry I was not, and still am not a better daughter.
Love,
Renee
You will never see this letter, and that makes me incredibly sad. I don;t know why we can't communicate, or where the problem originates from. I wrote you a letter once, as I have never really been able to say how I feel. It was with crayon on the back of an envelope. I left it on your dresser, but we never talked about it. Incidently, that was also about a boyfriend of yours at the time, one who I disliked very much for no good reason. This letter is less selfish. I would like you to know how upset, astonished, and angry I am that Tom broke up with you. And how I feel forever guilty for being a brat about it in the first place. Although I never seemed happy for you I fully was. I had weird resentment, for stupid reasons, and apparent jealously over new son, but I was always sincerely happy that you had put yourself in a poistion where you were finally treated right. I could tell how happy you were because you started saying "I love you" right after you first starting dating Tom. Although it was awkward to say that to each other after never saying it I soon came to really appreciate it.
I don't know how it would make you feel to see me crying so hard for you right now. It could make you more sad, or it could offer some comfort. I know you understand my apprehension about letting you know I am sad. Erin told me how you were sobbing while sitting at the computer the night I found out I didn't get in to Hampshire. I would not have ever known you felt my sadness if she did not relay what she saw.
I feel so guilty for acting so selfish. I always thought about me in terms of your new life, and how it isolated me and made me feel uncomfortable in my own house. I didn't let the fact that you were finally happy stop me from thinking about my own comfort level. I am so sorry. Now that it is all gone, now that all the people you love and have surronded yourself with are all taken away, now that all the expensive and new things intruding on our house are taken away and have nothing to replace them, now that we will have to move to a house we can afford....now I can see how good it was before.
You took me out to a fifties dinner for lunch. The food was awful, and the restaurant was too open and empty kind of resembling a theatre set. We talked about how your life was falling apart so suddenly and unexpectedly while 50s pop played in the background. It kind of made sense that way-The 50s had that facade of pretending to be okay when really everything was crumbling around you, and I feel like the cheesy nostalgia 50s dinners go for now had the exact same feel to them at the time. We laughed instead of crying about your loss of a job and a boyfriend-of a life more or less.
What I want you to know is that I feel your pain as much as if were mine. I can't stop crying, and I don't want to do anything to get my mind off of it, I don't want to talk to anyone, or leave, or do anything except sit with you so you know you are not alone.
But you won't know that. And when you say something about it I will just shrug my shoulders and grimace, because I can't speak about it to you. I am so overwhelmingly hurt for you right now, but there is nothing I can do. I think you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for though. Maybe we should get out of this town of judgemental PTO housewives anyway. Maybe it will all work out, right? I mean if I were to talk to anyone about this I am sure that's the sage advice they would give. Everything is falling so quickly... I am sorry I was not, and still am not a better daughter.
Love,
Renee