Dear Mom,

I miss you. A lot. And I know that you don’t know, nor do you care. If you cared, things would be different. But I’m not your little girl anymore, and it hurts me more every time I realize that.

Ever since dad moved back, and I started college, things haven’t been the same. You drink more; you started doing drugs, and you’ve become a lifeless soul in the shell of a person I used to love. I don’t know how to get along without my mom. I’m still a little girl. Though I’m 19 and in college, though I have a fiancé and I’m starting my own life, that doesn’t mean I wanted to lose you like this.

Physically, you haven’t gone anywhere. But when you drink, you disappear. You’re not the loving, quick-witted, brilliant jokester that I used to look up to. You’re just an example of why I should never, ever drink. And I guess you’re doing a great job.

It hurts me when you drink. It does. And I’ve told you a hundred times over. But I guess my pain, worry, and despair just isn’t enough to convince you to stop. I miss you so much. I come home from school, and you’re the first person I want to see, because you’re my mom and I love you. But when you drink, you’re not my mom. You’re just…alien to me.

Please come back. I’m slowly losing you forever, and I’m not ready to accept that yet. I hope that there will be one night where you’re sober, and you remember the things I’ve said. It kills me when you forget what we talk about, because a few times I’ve told you deep things I couldn’t tell anyone else, and it doesn’t matter. I just need my mom. I really need my mom.

Love,

Your daughter, age 19