Secret Letters
They used to be often. Now they’re rare. But yesterday’s was the worse. Maybe because the other ones have faded. Maybe because I’m leaving and this was not how I would have imagined my last two weeks of summer before college to be. Maybe because I was just so foolishly optimistic that things would just keep getting better.
Dear Daddy,
I hope you understand that I understand you. I’m almost certain, no, I’m 100 percent certain that I know and understand you better than anyone else, including mom. It’s really sad, but maybe it’s because I am just like you. I hope you understand that you’re not alone; not everyone is against you. You’re not wrong. It’s never your fault. It’s really not anyone’s fault; it’s all of our faults. You are an amazing father, and I owe you everything. Don’t apologize to me because it just hurts all the more, because you have never done anything wrong to me. I should apologize for not showing as much gratitude as I should, although I try my best. While I am the most expressive in the family, your guys’ inability to say loving and caring words do rub off on me from time to time. I need you and I love you. WE need you. Please continue to stay strong, and be the same. You don’t need to change, because it won’t make anything better. You’ll implode, perhaps explode. He didn’t mean what he said; he really didn’t. Please understand that and let it go. I can’t wait to get you that Cal hat that you want, because that’s the only way I know to show you that someone does care.
Dear Mommy,
I’m sorry that I cry. Growing up, you yell at me for crying when things are bad. I only cry more, and it’s just a part of me that I can’t give up. I even tried giving it up for lent before. Crying is my stress therapy, my emotional therapy, my mental therapy. I stress easily, frequently, and that’s the only way I am able to let it all out and move on. Unlike you, I cry it all out. I let things go. At least I don’t bottle up. You think it’s better; you think it leaves things at peace for the moment. But you’re wrong. It always comes out in the end. You yell at me for crying, saying I will run out of tears for when there’s things worth crying over, like your death. But mom, you can’t run out of tears, or at least, I’m quite certain you can’t. And mom, family is not significant to cry over? That seeing my family like that shouldn’t hurt me? You tell me I’m weak. On the exterior, maybe yes. But mom, I know I am strong. To have put up with the stuff I have in my lifetime and still get to where I am now. I love you mom, and I know that you know that. You’re closest to me, physically and mentally. But you are stubborn. Sometimes, you have to admit that you’re wrong. You need to appreciate people. Show some affection to people other than your kids. Let down your wall; I don’t understand how you can be married and not have it down. Don’t talk like you don’t care, because even if you don’t, you should, and you must.
Dear Older Brother,
I know you are a great person. I know you intelligent, kind, and caring. I know you look out for me and care for my well-being. I always speak highly of you. But sometimes, you disappoint me. I don’t want to have to worry about you, but I do. I don’t want to take care of you, but sometimes I feel like I should. Sometimes, I wonder if you care about me, about all of us. It hurts me that I get you a present every birthday and Christmas, but you rarely ever get me anything, just because I’m afraid you don’t care. I think about you and how we used to be all the time. I know that we grow up and things change. Maybe because there were things I just felt I couldn’t tell you anymore because you were over-protective, and that’s my fault. I know that you care though, and I appreciate each time you take me bowling or to the movies. I know that you care about all of us, but sometimes your actions don’t show it. I used to resent it, but I understand now. It’s easy to forget things that will always be there, and give your all to something you might lose. I know you were just defending me yesterday, and I appreciate that. It means a lot to me that you just wanted things to be better so that I can be happy and enjoy my last two weeks here. You’re scared that I care so much and hurt so much that it would lead me to bad consequences, perhaps suicide. But oh older brother, I do care much and hurt much because of it. But I love life too much to do anything irrational; because I care, I would not choose death to escape because I know the people around me will suffer more. You must understand that yourself. Death doesn’t make things better; perhaps only to the person who gets to sink into oblivion. Rage and violence, it never makes anything better. You hurt us with your words and actions. Your words though, they’ve pierced his heart and mines. They’re hateful, and no one deserves to hear that, especially him. Think before you speak please, because those were words you’re NEVER going to be able to take back. I love you and I really hope you’ll have a happy life. I hope our kids will be able to hang out with each other like you always say. Sadly, there’s things I can’t tell you because I don’t want to risk your happiness.
I wish I could tell all of you all of this.
Yesterday evening, I was telling Jimmy Le how I didn’t want to leave. How I would do anything to start school in September instead. But now, I’m so ready to leave, because it hurts too much. But this is not how I want to leave. I’m only going to leave with a heavy heart and worry about how things are at home, which ought to be the last of my worries as I’m starting college.
I like to write cards to express appreciation, gratitude, and love in ways I cannot express verbally. I’m glad to grow up in a society where it’s not awkward to tell someone thank you or that I love them whenever I want and whenever I feel like it. It’s still hard to do that with my family, but I try to express it in different ways. I just wish my parents and brother would tell each other how much they love and appreciate one another from time to time. Words of kindness and big hugs really can make all the difference in the world. That’s what they need right now, but we’re all too proud to do it.
Pride, you’re such a joke.
