A Letter To You: Dear Ma.

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Dear Strangers of Internet,

A Letter To You… Is a part of my writing work that I cherish deeply. It’s a serie of letters wrote by fictionnal characters (*from my imagination, duh.*) who are processing things along the way. In therapy, the characters learn that writing letters to people is a thing they have to do in order to move on. So, they tried to put their words on paper and release all of the emotions keeping them from figuring it out and letting go. The letter, “Dear Ma”, is the first one of the serie. Without further any due, here it is.

 

“Dear Ma,

Here I am, in front of this blank page, struggling for words. There is so many things that weight on my heart. I don’t know where to begin. I’ve been putting off having to tell you these words too many times before. Maybe from cowardice, maybe for fear of losing you for good. I’ve never been brave enough to face my fear to tell you what I’ve been feeling these last few years. If telling you this in person is too hard for me, writing it is the only way I know to tell you the truth.

Marie Lu said: “It hurts every day, the absence of someone who was once there.”.

I don’t know what she really meant by it. I can only try to guess. The loss of a loved one, a parent, a friend. It must hurt a lot. However, it has a different meaning for me. I never experienced such a loss. Not really. You’re still here. But you’re not. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I feel like I lost you many years ago.

You didn’t leave. You stayed. With us. With me. But you’re not here. I can’t find you anywhere. Sometimes, I look at you and I remember the person you were before. So sweet and caring. The person who taught me to always be kind and respect others. The person who taught me to help people whenever I could. The person I felt safe with. My shelter.

I wish you’d come back. I wish you were here. Then, I realise that you never really left.

There’s moments where I can find you again. Moments where you do something and it reminds me of what you used to do when I was younger. When I hear you singing an old song filled with memories of all of us. Together. Or when I hear you talking about our childhood’s memories. Those are my favorites moments. The moments where I allow myself to hope, thinking that you’re here, that you never left, not really. That you were just trying to heal on your own, just trying to find a way to be you again. But then, I realise that it was only parts of you. It was only my memories of you. The person you are now has overrode the one that you were.

These last few days, weeks, even months have been an awakening for me. Once again, I was hoping that you’ll go back to being you. The real you. The one I used to know. That everything would be fine at last. But, I realised that I was wrong to hope such a thing.

I guess it was selfish to except from you to stay the same, to be the person you used to be, when I’ve changed too, I grew up. I was so focused on what was different that I didn’t realise one thing. There’s no sense in dwelling on things that can’t be changed. You know I don’t believe people really change. We evolve while others regress. But, at the end of the day, we are who we are.

Maybe you always were the person you are now. Maybe I was blinded by my love for you and couldn’t see it. Maybe I didn’t know you that well. Maybe I only knew what you showed me.

For far too long, I was making the same mistake. I was trying to understand how a person can change that much. I think I’ll never find the answers I need. Some questions are better left unanswered. The thing is, I’m trying to remember you and let you go at the same time. I know that I have to let you go, or the idea I have of you. In order to move forward, I have to.

I told you the other day that I’m not okay with all of your choices – I don’t really understand them – and I can’t tell you if I’ll accept them one day or if I’ll be okay with them. There’s so many things we don’t agree on. We probably never will. I guess it’s part of life. At the end of the day, I only want your hapinness. I don’t know what will happen next, even though I can easily imagine. I hope life will prove me wrong about all of it. I hope this is only my anxiety thinking for me… The only thing I know for sure is what I feel and I needed you to know.

I hope one day you will understand what I’m trying to say. Even though I know that you won’t.

With love.”

 

This is K, signing off.

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