dear mom,

i already know how this is gonna sound and i already know what you're gonna say about it. you think i'm going through a phase. you think something is wrong with me. you think i'm trying to do too much and that i can't stay still for one minute. i mean, i can't even blame you for thinking that way. last time i told you about someone special he was a gay man and now it's a woman. and then on top of that you think that the entire idea of me transferring was spur of the moment. i can see how you think i'm being impulsive but i'm really not.
maybe if you called sometimes and didn't bitch at me you would know these things. maybe if you paid attention to something other than my flaws you would see that these changes have all been gradual. if you had been a mother instead of acting like a teenage girl maybe you could have and would have been there like you should have.
instead of coming at my neck about what i look like on the outside you could have discovered so much about me on the inside. have you ever even heard me sing? you were late to every play, dance concert, even graduation and then you tell me you believe in me.. how can you say that if you've never seen what i can do?
shit, maybe if you stopped smoking so much you would be able to remember a thing or two. look at you look at you. you're gonna be so mad in the end. mad you missed out mad you weren't a part of it. you were so close yet so far.
see, i can say all this same shit to my father couldn't i. i'm not making any excuses for him but at least he was separated from me by states. you were right there. a door over. yet still absent.

sincerely,
me.