Dear mom,
I'm not going to ever show this to you if I can help it. I'm not stupid.
I'm not gonna tell you that I remember you holding my hand, cradling me, or swinging me on the makeshift bed you apparently made. Frankly, I don't remember anything before 3rd grade- nothing clear. But I remember you. I remember your warmth. I remember your laugh. I remember sitting on the dining table and narrating everything Sarah, Jenny, Kenny or anyone I remotely knew about, did that day. How I hated this girl who was better than me, or the two guys who kept bullying me. I've never once gone to bed sad. When I watched a haunted movie for the first time, I clutched you hard. You say that I almost ripped your arm off. Thank gods I hadn't, because then your hugs would be less warmer. I hate to admit this, but I imagined you fighting the ghost in a boxing match! I was cheering you on, screaming 'Go mom! An uppercut! The underbelly! Kick! Punch! Go!' I'm laughing. I probably didn't even know those words then, so don't worry. Your daughter wasn't a sociopath at five. Perhaps, we should skip a few years, to sixth grade, when I was around eleven I guess. Society changed me. It changed you as well. It Crime was creeping. I had to grow up fast, didn't I? I shouldn't have had to. I should have been told that despite everything, I should be brave and strong. I guess you were telling me that in your own way. I became the stuck-up little prissy of my class, and if anyone of you are reading this, I'm sorry. I have no excuse. I was a child thinking I was a grown woman in a child's body. Perhaps I really was one. I don't know, but now I realize, I've never hated you mom, for what you did. I hate myself for not being strong enough or happy enough to handle it. But I'm proud of myself too. You and dad became my reason for living. I'd wake up cold and clammy, from a dream of losing you or dad. Those few minutes of unadulterated panic are indescribable. The purest form of panic, if had lasted longer, would've surely scarred me for life. Compared to that, whatever has happened till now, is nothing. Crushes untold, heartbreak, all of this, well let's just say whoever coined the phrase "What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger." wasn't kidding. I handled everything. And now, I know that was nothing compared to what is yet to come. But I know. Life is precious. Mine to you, yours to mine. And one day, I hope my life will become as precious to someone, as yours is to dad. :)
You've set the bar pretty hard, with the stupid 'fun' fights, lame jokes, hugs and kisses. But I know, I'll beat you. Because, you wouldn't forgive me if I became anything lesser than you.
That reminds me, I want to write. Words, words, words. They soothe me. I need them. And they need me. They speak to me, and they say that they don't get enough significance. I want to be a writer. I want to be a reader. I want to teach. I want to speak. I love what I am now, and I know that even if I didn't, you'd be there, and that is all I need. I will make you proud, because I want to.
I love you.
Love,
Daughter