This is Mary. My counselor Marcia says I have to write you a letter, telling you how I feel, even if I don’t end up giving it to you. So, here goes…
I feel bummed I have to write this letter because I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to you about what happened before. I’m also half afraid that if I send this, you will answer back, and I’m for sure not ready to hear what you have to say about it. I can’t imagine it’ll be very nice.
You can’t be surprised I feel that way. If you are, then you are even more clueless than Paul says.
The truth is, when you were planning your wedding, and living with us after the baby was born, you were mean. And not the ordinary sister-mean, but the kind of mean that still bothers me when I think about it, which is why I don’t really want to write this letter.
(Did you see that, Marcia? I don’t want to write this letter!)
But I guess I’ve come this far, so I might as well take it all the way.
First things first, I want to tell you that I’m not nearly as stupid as you think I am. I might not be a genius, but I was smart enough to know that all the things you said to me were for the sole purpose of causing me pain, and I don’t get why you would do that. How does causing me pain make you feel better? That makes no sense to me.
I also want to say that I’m not ugly either. I’m no super model, but I don’t look like a pug. Making fun of how I look, and what I wear, and calling me dog breath were just you being mean for no reason, and it wasn’t true. And even if it was, why kick a girl when she’s down? Honestly. I was having a hard enough time dealing with Mom and school, and that Creep you married, so I didn’t need any more. It just made things worse.
Is that what you wanted?
Did you want to make things worse for me?
Because you did.
Marcia tells me you had to be in a lot of pain yourself, and that was why you were spreading it around – because you couldn’t hold it all yourself. Your arms were full. But I’m telling you now I didn’t appreciate it. There are nicer ways to get people to help you, and this wasn’t it. Not by a long shot.
Did you know how close I came to ending it all?
Did you know why I ran away?
Did you care?
Maybe you do, but I’m afraid to ask. So I’m just going to write this letter and hold onto it for a while.
Anyway, I hope things go well for you. I do. I hope it gets better, and your arms aren’t as full anymore.
Mine aren’t. Since I’m not carrying your load I have enough energy to deal with my own. Marcia says I’m making progress, whatever that means.
Good luck to you.
I mean that.
Because I think you’re going to need it.
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[I changed some mandatory things.]
Giveaway will last from today until next Friday
[06/01/2012 - 06/08/2012]