It’s been 3 years and 7 months.
I felt the need to write something after 3 years and 7 months because I need to communicate with you and I don’t think my tears and my prayers are really reaching you. They’re just jumbled thoughts anyways.
It’s been hard, and these people while sweet and thoughtful don’t understand it the way I do.
The details of our relationship are not for the public. There have been people who have brought them up saying I probably feel so guilty, but they don’t know the story and it’s a crappy thing that they even bring it up.
Hell, I don’t know the story. I try and remember anything good or anything bad and I’m met with the same few memories that I have had for years. Nothing more.
I’m 16, I’m in high school, and it’s been hard. It’s been hard going through teenaged problems and not having a mom to talk to. I’m open with dad, but he can only do so much.
It’s hard knowing that I won’t have my mom at my wedding, my mom won’t ever meet my kids, or even the tiny things like dress shopping or just talks.
It’s hard having no memories of you! All I have is a facebook profile, an instagram profile, and maybe some obituary sites here and there.
There’s been so many thoughts in my head within these 3 years and 7 months, but those are thoughts strictly between you and me that I’m not going to write on the internet.
I wish I could share my ambitions with you, my troubles with you, and eat Chinese food with you on New Years. I think thats what we used to do. I’ve grown as a person, and even though you’re not here, you’ve shaped many aspects of who I am.
I wish I could yell at the people that have been crappy even after your death, I truly wish that would benefit you or me. Your death opened my eyes to many things, some positive and some not so positive.
I just wish you were around for a little bit of guidance here and there. But who’s to say you’d give it to me even if you were alive.
My last thought, funny but sad, is that even after these 3 years and 7 months I have hoped that somehow this is all one big lie. Maybe you faked your death and you’re still waiting for something, maybe a message like this. There has been no closure. Nothing.
Eventually, that might be the key. A little placemarker to pay respects to, a little keepsake that I keep with me forever. I’ll figure it out as I go.
But mom, I love you. You’re my mom, and you were so incredibly flawed and I didn’t know what to do back then but now? You’re my mom, and I love you. That’s one thing I wish you had known.