Dear K, R and H. I hate how you used to laugh at everything I did. I’ve never been comfortable around you, especially since I’m way younger than all of you. I hate how you laughed at 3-4 year old me, for being scared of H. I used to hide from you. But in your eyes, it seemed to be funny.
Dear H and K, I hate how you treated my mom and her brother as kids and still think, you didn’t do anything wrong and keep on persisting for us to visit you. But, if we do meet in public, you don’t know us. You don’t even look at us.
Dear L, we used to be really close. I miss that. I miss the person you used to be. Maybe it is foolish to think that, because we were maybe 5-6 back then. Maybe things would be different, if I hadn’t said what I said. I still can’t help to feel guilty sometimes. But, I was 4 or 5, for crying out loud. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it. You did make it clear, you didn’t want me in your life anymore, though. You lie to everyone, that you don’t know me. That we never used to be, what we were. But instead of just ignoring me, you started to pick on me with your friends. It hurts, yknow? We used to be a family. But I guess not anymore.
Dear H and E. I miss you. Every day of my life. In 4 days, it will be 9 years without you, E. I still remember the cause of your death. A sudden cardiac arrest in the hospital.
It’s been a little over a year, since you passed, H. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the last weeks of your life. I should’ve known better. I still feel terrible for that. I hope you know, I love you with all my heart. You made my life so much better. I remember all the weekends I spent at your house. We used to feed the local ducks, went on walks, eat ice cream or just hang out together. Thank you for being the best grandparents I could’ve ever asked for.
Dear U, you’re my father. I love you to death and wouldn’t want anything to ever happen to you, but sometimes you make me cry so much. You tend to raise your voice at me quickly. I don’t like talking to you about my problems, because you always come off as cold when it comes to that topic. When your father passed, we were all hurt. You probably the most of us all. But I still wish, you would’ve given me the time I needed to grief instead of forcing me, to get myself together and go to work with you. Maybe it were only good intentions, but back then, I would’ve needed the time and space.
Dear B, on one hand you’re the best mother I could ask for. But sometimes you are so toxic. You make me feel, as if asking for help means, I didn’t try hard enough. You yell at me, when I feel bad. I’m scared to be around you, when you have a bad day. Everything, even the littlest things are my fault. You take your anger out on me.
