The Things You Would Have Said
Month
Dear Tom,
I will never forget that phone call, just a year and a half ago. I was waiting to hear back from you, as you often called me when you finished classes. What I didn’t expect was to hear you say that you never wanted to see me again. You, the one man I loved, the one person I relied on. I never thought you would say that you hated me. I never thought you would leave.
But I guess I was wrong.
Today, I remember the great times we had. I remember the relationship we had, and the things we said. I will never forget the places we went, and the way you made me feel. I want to tell you that I’m sorry, for whatever I did to make you hate me so terribly. I want to tell you how much it hurts to lose my best friend, so unexpectedly. I want to tell you that I still love you, even if I can never see you the same way.
Most of all, I want to tell you that I still think of you, each and every day. I still want you to have everything in life - happiness, a beautiful wife, and incredible children. And I hope that someday, somewhere, I can see you again. Just once more, to see your face one last time.
All my love,
Care, age 21
Dear Mike,
I used to think you stole my mother from me. I would cry and write endless poems about the weight my shoulders held after hearing you talking on the phone with her. The things that were said, they changed my relationship with my mother forever. I can never forgive you, or her. I can never move past it.
But recently, I heard that she has been in love with you forever. She has never told me this herself, however, I can see it in her eyes during family dinners or when she think she’s alone. I hear my mother crying in her bedroom when my father hibernates in the basement, surrounded by his work and his weed. On the off chance she’s home, and not out vacationing with a man she’ll never find peace with, I find her staring at hundreds of old black and white slide film photos in the desk lamp next to her bed. It’s like a ghost inhabits her body. It’s like she was never even there to begin with. I don’t know which one is you, so I have not burned any yet. When I find out, I will be sure to send the scattered pieces of ash to your home in Texas. Or Tennessee. Truthfully, I don’t know where you’re from, I just know your accent is a southern one.
I am a writer, and I’m sure you know this based on the tales my mother has spun for you like carnival cotton candy. I’m sure you think you know me. I can assure you, you don’t. I wonder what your wife would think if she knew. My father is wise, he figured it out long ago, but your wife - I wonder if she is your prize or if you’re distant and cold. I imagine your children must feel like me; confused, scared, keeping a secret that you think they might know, but you just aren’t sure. I pray they don’t feel the burn of embarrassment that I do.
I can only write you letters I know you won’t get. I keep my pen next to my bed, so when I wake up in the middle of a freezing night - alone in my house - I can scribble these lonely words on any surface that allows me:
“You ruined her, and you ruined me.”
Ali, age 22
Dear Hannah,
It was all my fault that we broke up. I hadn’t a clue what I had when I had you and I actually feel regret with letting you go. I took you for granted and gave you up as selfishly as everything else in my life. I think about you everyday and realize that I was so damn happy with you and I haven’t come close to that ever since. The times we had together were so beautiful and perfect. The memories of you haunt my dreams and sometimes I’ll dream we are still together and awake to be disappointed the rest of the day. I’ve thought many times to tell you all of this, but I feel like you might have moved on for good and have none of these feelings for me because it was my selfishness that brought things to an end. I wish I could have us back so badly.
I still remember the littlest thing about you, like your birthday and favorite color and the smell of your hair. I miss every single thing about you, even the things that would piss me off. I would give anything to go back and tell myself to not take you for granted and to care and love you even more. I also realize that you were ahead of me by many years even though we were born only a few months apart. You saw things that I am just now realizing about life, and many of them I realize because of you and how you treated me. I wish I had been on par with your feelings and your emotions, but I guess it was not meant to be. Maybe someday we will meet again and be closer in life than we were, and everything will be alright. Remember when I asked you to marry me? Sometimes I wish we were still holding to that engagement. You were my first and only love. I miss you, Cheebs.
Yours,
Christiaan, age 19
Dear Unknown Siblings,
I’ve thought of you frequently and I trust you are with Jesus at this very moment. I can’t help but wonder how life would be different if you guys were alive. Would our family struggle like they do? I would have another younger sibling to guide and an older sibling to guide me. Apparently God had different plans. I’m awaiting the day that I can see you for the first time, face to face. Until then, I miss you and love you always.
Your sister,
Alejandra, age 17
To my youngest,
I have written this letter many times in my head over the last five years. What I keep coming back to in each rewriting is the fact that I don’t have anyone to send this letter to. I will never place this letter in your hands. I will never discuss the situation or the circumstances that lead to my decision with you. I won’t be able to tell you how sorry I am. Sorry that I wasn’t brave enough or strong enough. How utterly sorry I feel for not having you in my life.
But I also won’t be able to tell you how much pain you missed. He would have made you the scapegoat for everything that went wrong. Every time there wasn’t enough money, it would have been your fault. Every time something had to be sacrificed (like your father’s weekly drinking money), it would have been your fault. I didn’t want you to grow up that way. I wanted you to have a happy childhood.
I want you to know I miss you. I miss not having you. As little as you were, I hope you understand now why.
But I also want you to know your little life wasn’t completely in vain. I left him. Your little life had purpose and meaning to me.
Love from the one who should have been your mother, age 38
Dear Wes,
I can’t believe how much I’ve changed these past two years, and I don’t think you would, either. You made so many promises to me, and from the ones I remember, you’ve broken them all. But I didn’t lose my love. And I never will, because you taught me to never be like you. I’ve felt the pain from knowing you, from being let down, and I don’t think I’ve known much worse than that. I know I can handle myself, now, and I think you’d be proud. You made me know what it felt like to love, even if I only loved the person you pretended to be. You may dismiss it, saying that I was too young to know what I was doing, but I matured so quickly after what happened, to deal with everything. I didn’t need medication, or other people to replace you. I did it on my own, even if it took two years. So thank you. For helping me realize that the person I really loved was myself.
Love,
Me, age 16
Dear Brother,
You had three weeks to live in January 2011. When I visited with you in hospice, I wish I told you how much you taught me about living with grace and character. I admired you so much: the way you put family first, always choosing to be happy. You taught me to accept people the way they are.
Instead of saying that, I looked at you and cried, “I don’t want you to leave me”. You just looked at me and grinned, shrugging your shoulders. I wish there hadn’t been so many people there. We all came to see you and I didn’t get my turn.
You have left a void in our family. In the universe. I will try to live my life by honoring your selfless giving. And your unique gift of making everyone feel special.
Thank you, Ken. Until we meet again.
Donna, age 39
Dear Joseph,
It is 4:14 A.M. and I can’t sleep to save my life because, like always, I am up thinking about you. I miss you, I wish we still talked, I wish you still loved me, and I wish we were still a “we”. Because that’s all I have ever wanted. I wanted to be a “we” until we were grey-haired and old. You will always be it for me, the guy that I can never get enough of. I still love you with ever piece of the heart you broke. And if at any moment in time you want me back, I will go. Willingly.
Because even after everything we have been through, you still mean the world to me. You still make me weak in the knees, and every time I hear someone say your name, I look for you. Because for some dumb reason, I think you’ll be standing there. Even though I know you’re three thousand miles away in California, in love with someone else. And that hurts more than anything I can ever imagine. I was supposed to be the one you were always in love with. Remember, when you promised that nothing would ever change when you left? That you would always love me, because that’s what putting a ring on my finger meant? Forever. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? You changed your mind, and to this day, it still hurts. Like a knife to the back, a wound that will never heal. In two months, it will be exactly one year since you broke off our engagement. And on that day, I will break down and cry until I can’t cry anymore. Its not pathetic, it’s love. Possibly craziness, but I’m overlooking that part.
Anyways. Someday, I hope you get to read this. And I hope it hits you hard in the face. Like I wish I could do to you sometimes. Because I think you might need a good face-slap these days. But then again, I’ve always been that way about you. I love you. And I hope nothing but all the greatness in the world for you.
I hope that in the end, you find me, and that everything will finally be okay again. And that we will finally be a “we” again. Like it should be.
With all the love that I have to give,
Meganne, age 20
Dear U.S. Coast Guard,
You are ruining my relationship.
Sincerely,
Coast Guard Wife, age 22
Dear Daddy,
I love you. I don’t think I’ve ever told you in person.
Having grown up in such a strict cultural background, the word “love” was always awkward to say out loud. Anything emotional was out of the question, and the word “respect” was drilled into my head. I would only see you and mom occasionally. My nanny practically became my mother.
Then we were presented with such a great opportunity to bond and share. You left everything for that moment with me: your family, your job, your friends and your dreams.
Thank you so much.
It breaks my heart to find out that you have to leave. The way you told me that you were leaving and to be strong, the way you asked me to take care of mom and little Johnny, and the way you told me to be happy and chase my dreams…the tears just wouldn’t stop.
I just wanted to say I love you. I love you so much. I hope I actually get to say it out loud before you leave.
Thank you for always being there. Thank you for the little things like bringing my homework to school when I forgot it and coming to my plays even if you didn’t understand any of it.
Whatever happens, I’ll always love you and I’ll make you proud.
Your daughter,
lazybug, age 16
Dear Aunt Lindana,
Before you died, I had always wanted to say goodbye, but you died too quickly. Thanks for doing all those things for me and giving to everyone you loved. You have made me things like my “Bankey”. That is one thing I will never let go of, even if it rips. I bet Seth and Caleb miss you, too. I am sorry if I have ever done anything to hurt you. I never meant to. If I did, I am sorry with all of my heart. Good bye, I love you. You are a great Aunt.
Love,
Kaleigh, age 8
Dear Mom and Dad,
Today is three years, four months and twenty-eight days since you left. As promised, I am keeping the tradition and writing to you two on the day before my birthday. And I know this letter will never be sent, and will never reach you, but that’s okay. I think I do it for me. This was always my favorite day because I knew that tomorrow, we would be spending the day together, and that you would pamper me like you always did. Three years seems like a long time to some people, but it really isn’t. It is hardly anything. Time is hardly anything. I wish that I could go back in time. Back to April 17. It was just a normal day with you, until night time.
Mom, I’m so sorry. You always told me to treat people as if it was the last day you would ever see and talk to them. But with you, when it really mattered, I didn’t. The last thing I said to you was mean, and I will have to live with that the rest of my life, and it horrifies me. I hope you know that I love you. I loved watching American Idol and Survivor with you (David should have won!) I loved that you called me Von, and my love for animals I know comes from you. So does my red hair. I loved staying up late drinking a beer with you, and hearing you talking on the phone when I went to bed. It made me feel safe. I loved sitting in front of the fireplace in the winter with apple cider and just talking about our days. Damn, I miss that.
I couldn’t wait to call you from the hotel when I was on the road at work. I never told you, but I love you, and even my ex-girlfriends would say they could tell how much I loved you - even though I never said it. I loved the smell of the house, with all of your candles burning. I talked about you so much, because I want to be like you. I want to be kind, and I want to make the world a better place. I still tell the story about Dad not wanting me to get a Nintendo for Christmas, but you said ‘but its for my boy’, and I got it. I loved playing those games and hearing you yell down to me. You taught me that doing laundry isn’t really that hard. I loved playing the guitar when you were around because I overheard you on the phone one time saying how much you loved when I played. I think that’s why I still play. Because you liked it.
That night, you never stood a chance. But thank you. Thank you for being a good mother, a good friend, and someone I am proud to talk about. And know that the place you loved is loved by someone else now. It really is.
Dad, I miss you, too. I think we were close, but I really don’t know. The last letter I wrote, I was still at home. I’m sorry that I sold the place that you built with your bare hands. I think you would understand why I did, though. Once again, why can’t I go back in time? You have no idea how relieved I am that the last words I said to you were 'I love you, too, dad’. I think that was the first time I ever said it, and the last time, all in one.
Know though, that the reason I refuse to get close to people or let them get close to me is because of you. There is no doubt that something left me that day, and I don’t know that I’ll ever get it back. What I do know is that I am told all the time of how much I remind people of you. I also know how much I learned from you. You taught me how to split wood, and how to fix things. I learned from you that doing it yourself saves money. I don’t hate you. I’ll forever be angry, and I’ll forever be thankful for having you for the time that I did. I’ll always remember when you taught me to ride my bike: 'Use your hands if you fall to the front…I’m here if you fall to the back’. I’m proud to be a Jr.
Your son,
Rob, age 27
Dear Grandma,
How did you do it? How did you always remain so kind and giving to people? How did you give unceasingly with the little you had? How did you always remain true to God? How did you never turn from your life in dismay?
Your grandson, age 18
Dear Mike,
Maybe this would have worked if you and I really loved one another honestly. If we found time. If you weren’t just using work as an excuse not to see me. If you weren’t 25. If my mother accepted us for what we were. If you didn’t have five o’clock shadow which made me giggle like a child when it touched the skin of my shoulders under your blankets.
If you found time to wrap your lips around me instead of a cigarette every time you got a break. If I hadn’t faked it. If my legs didn’t shake. If we actually made love. If you loved me enough to call it making love. If I hadn’t kissed you on January 28th, February 12th, 14th, 26th, March 8th , 16th and 20th. If we loved each other one day at a time instead of two weeks at a time. If I took advantage of every minute we did get together. If we really could have sat on that park bench forever. If I didn’t have to lie to see you. If I heard that play list you were making me. If we really were Jim and Pam.
If the last real conversation we had wasn’t in your bed fifteen days ago. If you called me back (smoke signaling, texting, emailing, or speaking to me would have been accepted, too). If age really didn’t matter. If my friends really understood instead of pretending to. If I could tell my parents. If I never sat next to you during orientation. If I didn’t make things into such a big deal. If everyone at work didn’t care about our status. If I didn’t feel like I was letting everyone down. If your best friend wasn’t my boss. If I never came to your shit apartment in the first place.
If I hadn’t loved you.
If it was love at all.
If it’s true that sometimes things just happen, and it’s desperation, not love that holds them together.
We just grew apart, I guess.
If we could talk just one more time,
Forever, age 18
Dear Nana,
Each moment we spend together, I can go back to when I was young and remember each moment, each laugh, each juice-spill I made. All the memories of us. The good ones.
I miss the person you were back then, when we could do anything and you would be up for it every time I asked. Even if it was totally dumb, you would do it, to make me happy. I still love seeing you, even if you aren’t as peppy and cheerful like you used to be. We’ll be watching The Young and The Restless, your favorite show, and it feels just for that moment like it was when I was young.
You will sometimes sneak in stories of your old boyfriends, hopes, dreams and why your the way you are. I wish you weren’t sick with something that took who you are away, from everyone you love. I hate it. I wish you were still that person, never angry. I don’t care, though. Every time you get mad or upset, i’m there for you, every second, making sure you’re happy because now your happiness matters the most. I’ll always be happy as long as I can see you smile, at least once a day and laugh, like back then.
Love,
Your granddaughter, age 18
Dear Arrow,
I know times are tough. But you need to stop living in the past. Things happen, people change, something’s never get any better. It’s not the end of the world. Start looking forward to the happy things. Your family is alive, they love you, your friends care about you, and you’ve still got a roof over your head. Stop complaining, put on a smile, and just enjoy life. If not for me, then for your family.
With love,
D00dlebugg, your sister and friend, age 16
Dear Daddy,
I honestly cannot believe that on September 14th, it will have been two years since you died. Every time I write that, I pause, trying to think of a better way to say it. Honestly, I wanted to just write “it will have been two years since you left.” At least that way it implies you aren’t gone for good. You left me. You were only 55. Why couldn’t you take care of yourself better? Why didn’t you quit smoking? You always put everyone else before yourself; you always cared more about making someone else smile rather than getting what you wanted.
A lot of the time, I think and feel guilty about how lonely you were living alone with just the cats. I blame myself for your loneliness. I feel horrible for leaving New Jersey to move to Florida. I know you understood that it was to try and find a better life for Leah and Tim and I, but I know you were probably really angry with me anyway.
Yet, you never once said anything because again, you never wanted to worry anyone with how you were feeling. I wish you had, because I could’ve told you how important you were to me and to your granddaughter who was only a month old when we left. I could’ve helped you sell your house before you got even further into debt and then maybe you would’ve had something left over to get a small condo close to me in Florida. I took you for granted. I never once thought you would be taken from me so soon. I thought I had another twenty years with you, but instead my father was stolen from me before he even saw me turn thirty years old.
I think a lot about all the time I wasted when I was living with you. It was just you and me, and I barely saw you. I remember our first Christmas and how perfect you wanted it to be because you said you hadn’t had me on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning since you and mom were still married. You gave me money to go crazy buying Christmas decorations and ornaments for our tree. When you went out on Christmas Eve to get it, I remember how upset you were that it was so tiny and dead looking, and you were even more upset when I realized I had forgotten the ornament hooks. I smiled. I loved our Charlie Brown tree, and once we got the ornaments on, it was beautiful.
I’ve pretty much convinced myself that you had to be angry with me when you died. I feel like I could’ve been so much better to you. I just assumed that eventually you would move down here and we would get an old Mustang and you, Tim, and I would work on it on Sundays before we had Sunday dinner together. You would teach Leah how to change the oil and how to change a tire, and then when she was old enough, how to drive a stick shift like you did for me, “Just in case you’re at a party and there’s an emergency and the only car is a stick.”
I miss your sense of humor. I miss your laugh. That’s one of the things we all remember-your laugh and how contagious it was. It was loud and full, unapologetically so. I miss your dirty jokes and Leah misses how you laughed hysterically at all the jokes she’d call you to tell you, even though they didn’t make any sense. I miss having you still reach for my hand to hold it when we crossed the street, even when I was a grown woman. You always protected me, you always cared for me and loved me no matter what. You supported me and always believed that any dream I had, I would achieve. You honestly believed it and you made me believe it, too.
I wanted to be Miss America because you used to tell me I could. I remember watching the pageants and you telling me how much prettier and smarter I was than those girls, and that I could be Miss America and get a scholarship and go to school and be a famous writer if I wanted to. I didn’t finish college, but you didn’t let me know how disappointed you must have felt. I loved you for that. I felt bad enough on my own without having to worry about a speech. I’m so sorry that I didn’t graduate college for you. It’s one of my biggest regrets, just because I know I probably disappointed you for wasting my potential. I wish you were alive to have seen Tim and I buy our first home. I wish you could see me writing my book (finally). When you died, it inspired me to write. It helps me deal with all the pain to write it down. I’m not sure how I’m going to turn it into a book, and I doubt anyone would buy it but I need to write it. And if it gets published, I’m dedicating it to you, for always believing in me.
When I run, that’s the only time I don’t think about how sad and angry I feel about you being gone. For that short period of time, the world is just happening around me but I’m not thinking about any of it. I’m lost in trying to make it that one last minute, that one last mile so I can tell myself to push a little further. In a way it kind of represents how I feel sometimes since you died. I just exist, trying to make it one more mile (then one more, then one more…). I hear things, smell things, feel things a lot and I know it’s you letting me know you’re there. I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m nuts for believing in the fact that you’re still here with me, but as long as I’m being honest, I still feel gypped. I’m thirty years old. Your granddaughter is six. We didn’t get enough time with you. I didn’t get to tell you enough how amazing a father and grandfather you were and it’s just not fair. I miss you daddy and I will never stop. I will always be your little girl. I love you.
Kristen, age 30
JC,
I went by your empty house today. I felt the emptiness through my heart. I can not seem to say goodbye. I love you.
Cinda, age 61
Dear Tobi,
I was always jealous of you
You were the pretty one, whom all the boys liked
You were so sweet, all the teachers loved you
I remember the times when we were little and we played in your room that had a television in it
I hated you for that.
In grade three, when I asked you how to spell “they” because I thought it looked wrong and you looked at me like an idiot
I hated you for that
When we stopped being friends because your friends weren’t nice
I hated that you got to go to all the parties I was not invited to
The way your mother loved you
How well you could dance
The way your life seemed perfect
I hated you for that, too.
The day you died, I didn’t hate you anymore
The day you died, I hated myself
When I walked out into that hall and saw people crying
I knew something was wrong
When I got the phone call that said you were gone
I cried
You had everything in the world that I wanted and you didn’t even have enough time to live.
I’m sure you were jealous of me then
I was the one that got to grow older
I was the one that got to win awards
I was the one that got to meet new friends
I was the one that got to learn to drive a car
I was the one that got my first kiss
I was the one that got to live
You hated me for that.
But throughout my entire life since the moment you died
I thought god chose the wrong twelve year old girl
He should have chosen me
And I’m sorry you are gone
-Abbie age 22
Dear Erik,
I always wanted to tell you that you are a very good friend. I know you are annoying and mean sometimes, but you are my friend. Like the time you helped me up when I got hurt. I hope you think the same of me.
Your friend,
Cameron, age 8
Dear Don,
When you were alive, your son was so happy and carefree in his life. One of the reasons why I loved him was his joy and vigilance, even with spina bifida. You raised him so well. He was so resilient to vulnerability and yet so open to love and care from me. We were best friends for the longest time, and we were only a few months into our relationship when you were diagnosed with cancer. I had never met you before, and when I finally did, I could see where your son’s resilience and love for living came from.
One of the first things you said to me was how you could tell your son and I loved each other. I remember watching the two of you embrace and quietly pass the time falling asleep in each other’s arms. You were so funny, and you joked so much; you made your six months of chemo seem like nothing. Your son loved you so much. He spent every day and night by your side. No matter how much he needed a shower or to change clothes, he stayed with you. I wish you were still here. Things are so different now.
I also remember that time you laughed your way through one of those horrible hospital meals. And no matter how hard things were, you managed to make us laugh. I remember that one day I waited with you at the entrance of the hospital for your son to bring the car around. You looked up at me and said, “Take care of my son.” In my heart, I made that promise to you. Til this day, it is a promise that only you and I know about.
I remember that day you gave up the battle. The doctor asked you if you wanted to keep living and you pointed to “No”… you couldn’t talk because of the tracheotomy. I ran out crying - and all I remember was you looking at me and reaching for my hand. I miss you. I miss the funny father that I spent seven months with, massaging his feet and making him giggle. You made me appreciate my own dad so much more. I regret every moment that we didn’t spend with you (getting food, or picking something up, etc.). I wish you were still here. Things are so different now.
I am sorry that I might not be able to keep our promise. We aren’t the same people - not having you around changed everything. Things that once made him happy now make him sad. It felt like he fell asleep the moment you left. We are still friends, but we barely talk or laugh together anymore. We say so many things that we don’t mean to each other. I wonder all the time about what life would be like if you were still around - it makes me smile thinking about it.
Love,
Your son’s ex-girlfriend, 22
J,
It’s been three years and yet it feels like just yesterday that I heard the news. I knew that going on without you would be tough but I didn’t think it would be this bad. I miss you more than I ever thought imaginable. Everyone said time would heal the pain I was feeling. It hasn’t. There isn’t a day that I don’t think about you and how things should have been.
I’m still mad at you for not sticking it out. Life is tough and you just gave up. You left me here all alone to deal with this pain. I wish you had realized that even though I was dating someone else, I was still there for you. You were my best friend. I would have done anything I possibly could have to help you. I blame myself for making you think that I wasn’t there to listen. Maybe if I had been more open, you wouldn’t have done this.
And I’m still mad at myself for never telling you how much I really cared. I can still hear your voice saying, “I love you, punk.” And I can still feel the lump in my throat that I felt then, the silly nervousness that held me back from telling you and the whole world how much I loved you. I’m sorry for that. I promise to never let fear hold me back ever again.
Thank you for teaching me how to love and to never give up.
I love you,
H, age 20
Dear B,
So I am sitting here almost a thousand miles away, and I just thought I would drop you a line in a public forum to tell you thank you.
You’ve been there for me when no one else was. In the past couple of years, I have realized that you are more than just a cousin. You truly are my best friend. I know that no matter what, I can call you and you will be able to make me laugh. For that I am truly grateful, as sometimes a good laugh is all it takes to bring me back to reality and put things in perspective.
Just wanted to let you know that no matter what, I am here for you. You have my number and while I may not be able to up and go for a fourteen-hour drive, I will always be here to talk to, cry with, vent to or laugh with.
Love ya tons,
Me, age 32
Dear Uncle Bruce,
You were my favorite. You were the first man to ever put his arm around me, and to me, that made you a father figure. I miss your jokes and how you would tell the same ones over, but they never got old. I miss drinking soda while you drank beer and feeling like a grown up. I know that you weren’t a very nice man, but you were always nice to me.
I don’t know if you are ashamed to come back and talk to us, because of what you did, or if you just don’t want to. I don’t know if you’re happy, which I hope you are, or if you are devastated and are drinking more than ever. I love you, and I don’t think I will ever see you again. I’m terrified that you might die, or go to prison, and none of us will know it because you’ve cut us all out. If I could find you, I would. If I knew you wanted to talk to me, I would be there in a second. Your jokes wont lose their humor now, they couldn’t. Telling stories about you still makes me smile to this day. I miss you.
Me, age 17
Dear 12 year old me,
I am writing you today to tell you what to expect through life. It will help you in the long run. First, stop being so lazy in school. You will get held back in eight grade. Tell the girls you are interested in that you like them because years later they will come back and tell you that they liked you but wanted you to make the first move. Sure you might get rejected, but let me tell you now that it’s worth the risk.
When you graduate, Dad will tell you that you didn’t try hard enough in school for them to pay for college. You won’t want to go and you join the military instead. You will start your first job, but 12 ½ years later, you will lose it for doing something stupid. You will have your first real girlfriend and first real kiss when you are 22. Warning, though, she will break your heart into a million pieces. You will learn that heartbreak hurts but it doesn’t kill you. Tell your little bro that you love him. He’ll take the wrong path when he turns 18 and has always looked up to you. He loves you and you might be able to change him now.
I love you and the person you become, although I’d like to see how things would have worked out if you changed a few things.
Colin, age 28
Dear Mom,
It’s been a long time, but I still miss you and love you the same. It’s been a long hard road without you, but I know it wasn’t a choice you made. I know you made a lot of bad choices but you were doing the best you could for us three girls. I know I seem strong and that without you, I have grown, but living and growing up without you has been such a struggle. There have been so many things that made me wish you were still here. From simple things like how to put on makeup to the big things like love. I hope you are proud of what I have become.
Love,
Your Daughter, age 20
Dear soul mate,
I know you’re out there…. Why are you so hard to find? I’m right here waiting.
My heart is open and the love you’ve been longing for is standing by patiently.
Anxiously waiting,
KDG, age 21
Dear best friends,
I just want you to know that I used to think you guys were the best people and best friends ever. That was before I realized how selfish and mean you were to others. I’ve always been taught at home and church that you need to be nice to everyone-love the unlovable. I say that as a reminder to you all sometimes. Do you even hear me? I feel like you’ve pushed me into the background since I haven’t taken part in your little taunting games towards other people. I know how they feel; you’ve made fun of me. You said you were joking but I know that you weren’t. Anyone could tell. Please, I just want you to realize how you act and how you’ve hurt other people. I hope that someone else can get that into your head, because I’m about to give up.
I don’t regret for one minute that I befriended you guys, and all the good times we’ve had, but I’m done with pretending that it’s fine to laugh at others’ insecurities. You get angry when people do that to you, so don’t you think they would be angry when you do it to them? I desperately wish you could read this letter, and maybe I’ll get up the gumption to say these things to your face. I do love you guys, and I want you to be the best people you can be. Please. Listen.
Love always,
KP, age 16
Dear R.,
It seems like it has only been one millisecond since the last time you crept into my room and destroyed my life, my faithful innocence. It hasn’t been. Almost ten years have gone by now, and I have suffered in so many ways. My body used, abused - confined for years to the life of a sex and drug addict because I couldn’t understand what had been happening. Several diagnoses of PTSD, depression, and Disassociation Disorder from therapists who never really understood the hurt. Untreatable insomnia. Broken relationships that I will never be strong enough to fix. The inability to trust anyone with my own truth. I bet you haven’t given it a second thought, I bet it feels good to know my father and I will never be the same. I bet you sleep like a baby. I am tortured by night terrors and I grip my lovers’ skin with white hot fingertips. Jump at every noise.
I have tried to talk myself into forgiving you, for you suffered from sadness the way I now do - and though I am weak, I could never. You continue to taunt me; leave love letters taped to my door, take photographs of places I’ve been while you were stalking me, dispose of your dirty underwear beneath my bedroom window. It sickens me. I vomit nightly, after I’ve safely burned your reminders.
Oh, but I don’t write this for you, I write this for me. To see it on paper so I know it’s real. To feel the shame rinse off of me, like a hot shower. To let my mind rest for just a few minutes. I am burdened by my past and can’t let go. Now, I’ve fallen in love with someone, and all I can leave them are breadcrumbs to discover my secret.
I was raped. Nightly, for three years. By my father’s best friend.
And I am still broken.
Disgusted,
A, age 22